The biggest idiots of all
by curdled-milk
Summary: The sequel to What fools men are. . . complete
1. Prologue

I was in a meeting last night when I saw, on the chalkboard, beneath the erasermarks and my own deranged scribblings, the words "the plane orthogonal to HYD axis is called the pi plane." It must be a sign! I thought. If only i knew of what. Maybe it means I should give up on wind and start a different fic?. . oh, what you say? no, I don't care if the answer really is just hydrodynamics, I'm sticking to my own theory, ThankYouVeryMuch. . .  
  
Without Further ado: - - the sequel I swore I wouldn't write.  
  
*Prologue*  
  
Doumyouji Tsukasa stood before a wide picture window, looking out over the rolling fields of the Hudson River valley. Spring was fast coming to New York. The Long winter had been dark and dismal. Tsukasa told himself that it was a reflection of the depression he'd felt ever since fleeing to New York, but even he'd been glad to see the icy drifts of snow melted away by freshening spring rains. And now, as April began to enter its penultimate days, he could once more begin to appreciate the blossoming of the estate's apple and cherry trees, and the rapid greening of the grass.  
  
But, all that was outside. Tsukasa pressed a hand against the almost invisibly clear windowpane. He could look at it, but hardly ever did he get a chance to wander out beneath the free skies. No, he more often felt like a prisoner, trapped in his parent's vast and sterile mansion. His days were occupied with learning the details of the day-to-day management of the sprawling octopus that was the Doumyouji corporation. His nights were a haze of meaningless social events and inane cocktail parties, as he mingled with, and formed connections with, the elite of the American business class. In his 'spare time,' he was constantly harassed by language coaches, who, one incremental step at a time, forced mastery of the English language into his resistant brain. All these things were necessary tasks for the Heir to the Doumyouji Corporation to fulfill. . . But he often wondered if his parents (and their social secretaries), had deliberately made it so that he had no free time of his own. He was a caged bird, singing to their tune.  
  
What else could he do?  
  
He'd fled to New York, running from Tsukushi's desperately sad rejection, and now he was stuck with the path he'd made for himself. He didn't even know if his parent's would actually let him go back to Japan if he had wanted to. Maybe that was why they'd made so sure to fill his days so completely. For, how could he dream of escape when he was kept running to the point of exhaustion on the company wheel?  
  
It was only at rare moments like these, when the house was cold and empty, and he was alone with nothing but the sound of the wind outside to keep him company, that his thoughts were truly his own -- that is, of Doumyouji Tsukasa the man; his dreams and disappointments, and not those of Doumyouji Tsukasa, the embodiment of a vast corporation.  
  
And again, maybe it was for the best that these moments were so rare, for he never found solace in these reflections, merely regret, and an ever- growing sense of loneliness and isolation.  
  
His parents, it was evident, having failed to ever make time for him as he grew up, now found that they could not relate to the angry, brooding man their son had become. Nor were they willing to accept responsibility for this sad state of affairs. Tsukasa and Kaede fought constantly whenever they came into contact. Tsukasa would never forgive her for what he considered to be her role in helping to alienate Tsukushi. And Kaede was far too proud a woman to even consider unbending enough to apologize to her wayward son. The best the two ever managed was an icily-cold cease fire, that they maintained only in those rare social occasions that required both to be present simultaneously. There would be no witnesses to the towering inferno of vitriol that were their arguments. Even Tsukasa had enough sense, now, to avoid such a disgrace - such a loss of face to the Doumyouji name would cause unthinkable damage to the company assets.  
  
As for Tsukasa's father, the man seemed embarrassed to have somehow acquired this stranger for a son. Why, he could remember, it seemed so few years ago, a smilingly innocent little boy. Not knowing how to cope with this older, more maddeningly frustrating (and frustrated) manifestation, he tended to retreat into his office and flee on his many business trips. When he did speak to his son, it was always with great formality and distance. . . With barriers like these, there was no way Tsukasa would ever be more than a cipher to him.  
  
Tsukasa sighed and turned away from the window; turning his back on the joyful beams of sunlight poking their way through trees adorned with myriads of pale blossoms; turning his back on the revitalization of spring; on the promises of new life springing from the ashes of yesteryear. No, none of that was for him; now he had only the dry, cold life of a businessman; mergers, paperwork, finance. . . Yes, now That was the only future for him.  
  
His feet trod more slowly with each plodding step he took back into the inner darkness of the mansion's labyrinthine corridors. Tsukasa had given up on happiness, on love. . . Now there was only duty. . . .  
  
To be continued.  
  
Short, yes, but It's only a prologue. Deal. And, of course, previous caveats apply, those being that I'm exceedingly short on time, so don't expect frequent updates. And secondly, no no, I don't own HYD, how could I, when I don't even speak japanese? Thirdly, No reviews means no continuation. 


	2. the calm before the storm

All I wanted to do tonight was clean my apartment, and not deal with my fucking committee peons. Goddamn wankers. At least my Wench obeys his orders, even if he does want to kill himself now. God it sucks being the Bitch. Why did I want this job again? And my apt still isn't clean. Anyway. . . So now I'm frustrated, stressed, and insomniac, out of this is borne. . .   
  
*Chapter One*  
  
The phone was ringing. Loudly. Tsukasa groaned and rolled over in bed. Flinging a pillow over his head, he tried to drown out the incessant noise, in hopes that a servant or maid would pick up and take a message. No such luck. After what seemed an eternity, an answering machine picked up, to the sound of a dial tone. A few seconds later, the phone began to ring anew. Whoever was calling was certainly persistent, Tsukasa had to give them that. He could only wish it were otherwise. Didn't anyone else hear the noise? Didn't anyone else care? In his sleep-clouded stupor, Tsukasa failed to realize that the call was on his personal line, and thus that no one else could possibly be disturbed by the clamor.  
  
Grumbling curses at the inconsiderate louts who would wake him from his much-needed beauty sleep, Tsukasa reached out a fumbling hand and snagged the bedside receiver.  
  
"What?" he barked irately, not even bothering to ask who was calling.  
  
"Hey Tsukasa! How's it going?"  
  
"Akira." Tsukasa scowled sleepily. The only one of his friends who actually bothered to call on a regular basis. Tsukasa often wished he wouldn't. He'd come to New York to escape his mistakes, escape the stresses that were tearing at their group. He hated to be reminded of the way their clique had imploded, the way he'd lost Tsukushi. But Akira still called, blithely disregarding time and place. Sometimes he'd pick up the phone on a whim, first thing when he woke up in the morning, or during lunch. Sometimes he'd even call Tsukasa from the clubs, the deep bass beat rendering his words obscure, and the dialogue hazy. It didn't much matter, for usually the conversation was remarkably content-free.  
  
While Akira wanted to check up on his moody friend and did what he could to cheer him up, Tsukasa stubbornly refused to let his friend in, and would not allow him to talk of any . . .sensitive. . . matters, such as the mere mention of Soujiro, or anything connected in any way with Tsukushi. Instead, they'd mutter inanities about the weather; how their respective families were doing; and about the state of the stock market. It wasn't much, but even so, just the sound of Akira's voice on the phone sent Tsukasa's thoughts spiraling downward, pulling him into a memory-induced depression that only time and distance could numb.  
  
Rui had tried to call a few times too, back in the beginning. Tsukasa had never bothered to find out what the other boy wanted. Instead, he'd just hung up, at the sound of the other boys voice. Eventually, after several months, Rui had stopped trying. Tsukasa frequently thought about trying the same tactic on Akira, but he couldn't quite bring himself to- - he knew that the red-hared boy had done nothing deserving of such treatment, and even if he had, Tsukasa wasn't quite sure he could have brought himself to sever this last tie with the past. . .  
  
"Do you have any idea what time it is here?" Tsukasa turned from his brief reflections to growl at Akira.  
  
"Umm. .. . Hell If I know." Akira replied nonchalantly, "What does it matter? You got some critical paperwork to shuffle or something?"  
  
"I was sleeping. And I'd like to go back to sleep, if you don't mind."  
  
"Oh come on! Don't be like that, " Akira cajoled, "don't you have time for your oldest friend?"  
  
"Not when it interferes with my sleep. What do you want, Akira?" Tsukasa was getting irritated. If this conversation continued much longer, he was going to wake up fully. He hated that, because then he'd not be able to go back to sleep again. And he had a long day in front of him tomorrow. . . . Today?. .. . In the morning. Whatever.  
  
"Hey, Tsukasa, have you ever thought about taking stress management classes? You sound a bit tense." Akira really enjoyed provoking his curly- haired friend, provided of course, there was a safe distance between the two of them. A continent and an ocean should provide enough protection, barely.  
  
"Will you get to the point?" Tsukasa rolled over slightly, letting his eyelids drift shut, as he cradled the phone receiver against his ear; preparing to hang up and go to sleep at a second's notice.  
  
"Fine." Akira snorted derisively, "If you're going to be like that, I guess I won't tell you the news."  
  
"What news?" Tsukasa's eyes shot open again, as a sudden electric tingle of premonition shot down his spine.  
  
"Oh, nothing much." Akira teased, "You probably won't care, anyway. . ."  
  
"Akira. . ." Tsukasa's tone was full of warning.  
  
"Fine." Tsukasa could almost hear Akira's pout, as he gave in and divulged his bit of gossip, "Sakurako's getting engaged!"  
  
"What?!" Tsukasa was surprised, but somehow relieved at the same time. His premonition must have been wrong. He was just getting all worked up over nothing. . "Who's fool enough to marry that slut?!"  
  
"Now Tsukasa!" Akira admonished, "That's no way to talk about a lady!"  
  
"If she was one, I'd treat her like one." Doumyouji snorted. Nevertheless, he was disturbed by the unexpected gossip. Another person related to his past. Another person who only reminded him of what he'd had - - and lost. Goddamn Akira and his 'news' for reminding him of Tokyo and all of that. . .  
  
Still, his curiosity was piqued, and he listened intently as Akira began an unlikely story.  
  
"So, it turns out that Sakurako's grandmother caught her fooling around with some guy. And you know how her family is descended from old nobility, right? Yeah, so the old lady gets this idea that Sakurako's honor is at stake, and she'd better marry the poor girl off, before the family name got tarnished. Isn't that so old school? Anyway, you'd think with all their connections they'd pick someone recognizable, or at least important. . . but, I guess the Sanjo name is already faded, or else their fortunes are in worse decline than I'd thought, 'cause I've never heard of the guy. . . He's got money at least; family owns some minor electronics corporation, but oh man, you have to meet the guy. It's just too funny."  
  
"Why would I care?" Tsukasa grumbled, even as his traitorous ears avidly picked up each word of Akira's laughingly delivered story.  
  
"Because, the poor guy is shy! He's supposedly a third year college student at Eitoku University, but I'd never noticed him. He sort of fades into the background, y'know? Apparently, when they were introduced, Sakurako just kind of stared at him, like, 'What the hell am I supposed to do with this?' And he's so bloody nice and polite too. . I bet he's still a virgin, at that. Sakurako is totally going to break him. You have got to come back to Tokyo and see. We're all taking bets on when he's going to start screaming and run from her. It's gonna be great fun to watch her in action again." Akira's tone was positively gleeful, He for one, couldn't wait to see what trouble Sakurako stirred up with her fiancé. It was sure to provide entertainment, and, since he wasn't fond of the girl anyway, her plight couldn't upset him much.  
  
"Thanks, but I'd rather not." Tsukasa's tone was dry. In the back of his mind, he was beginning to wonder if Akira saw the implications behind the engagement. It wasn't just that Sakurako was caught messing around; it was also the fact that she was sole heir to an old and honorable fortune, and the fact that she was the right age to marry off to secure her family's future, and that of her fiancé. Soon, the same fate would befall all of them. How would Akira laugh then, when his parents had sold him off to reinforce their holdings? Tsukasa's musings turned darker, as he thought of his brief engagement to Shigeru. . . .  
  
There was no doubt in his mind, that his mother would try again, when she found some suitable alliance, to marry him off. But, Tsukasa refused to let the idea bother him. Fine, if that is what the company needed, then he'd marry whatever stranger they picked for him. But they could never make him love her; never make him see the woman as anything more than a business deal, a wife in name only. . . and never in deed, This he'd promised himself when he first came to New York, knowing full well what path he was choosing for himself as he did so. And a Doumyouji always kept his promises.  
  
"What does Sakurako think about all this?" The words popped out before Tsukasa had even consciously thought of them.  
  
"Oh well, " Akira shrugged, invisibly, on the other side of the world, "She's not pleased. But, you know her. She's taking it in stride. I expect her husband to be a whipped obedient lapdog before long, while she's out prowling the town, up to her usual tricks. You know her. You know what I mean."  
  
"Indeed." Tsukasa pondered Akira's words. . . The future could impose its will upon them all as it chose, but how much could any of them really change from who they'd already become? And why would they even try to change, when in the greater scheme of fate, their public roles were already ordained -- rooks or knights, or even as king, on the board of corporate chess. What they thought in private was completely irrelevant to any of that . . . so long as it remained in private. . . .  
  
And that of course, was the problem. Wasn't it always?  
  
To be continued. . . 


	3. and so it begins

High above the grey streets of New York City, Doumyouji Kaede sat in her office, sipping coffee, and reading her morning reports. Her perfectly manicured nails drummed the desktop in poorly concealed irritation as she took in the latest economic reports.  
  
Things were not going well for the company.  
  
To be fair, the business world was in rough shape these days, what with rising unemployment, and a shaky stock market threatened, not only by the vagaries of international politicking, but by vicious rumors of accounting scandals, insider trading scandals, and god only knows what else.  
  
Doumyouji Kaede was not pleased. She took any and all company setbacks personally. It may not have been her fault that the global economy conspired against her, but she felt the blame anyway. Something had to be done to shore up the Doumyouji Corporation's holdings. . . Unfortunately, the company was not really in an adequate state to assay a hostile takeover of some unfortunate rival. . . She'd have to find a merger instead. A merger capable of boosting company morale, as well as stock prices. Kaede restlessly flipped through her portfolios, skimming each with a blinding speed and precision that only years of focused devotion to her chosen profession could produce.  
  
At last she found one that suited her needs. An alliance near and dear to the chunk of frozen ice that passed for her heart. Kaede had a thing for Hotels. Ever since she'd acquired her first chain at the tender age of 19, she'd gathered up an ever growing number of grand resorts, inns, world class five star hotels, and the like, under the sign of the maple leaf. If she could be said to love anything besides the scent of money, it would the sight of her banner- - her name, flying proudly above the entrance to these posh establishments. It was her one weakness, in the world of business. Kaede just couldn't resist a new acquisition like this.  
  
Almost tenderly, her long fingernails caressed the pages of the portfolio, even as her eyes took in every word, every detail writ therein. There was a price of course. There was always a price. But it was one easily paid, and Kaede felt no hesitation as she stabbed at the buttons on her phone, arranged for a conference with her husband, and set about pondering the best way to work the deal to her own advantage. After some minutes, a slow smile crept its way across her face. It was a shark's smile, lean and predatory. Her secretaries, if they had seen it, would have most likely been sent fleeing from the room in terror, as her creepy smile sent tingles of fear down their spines. Luckily, however, there was no one to see, except perhaps for the few pigeons cowering on the ledge outside, and they were too dumb to care. . .  
  
A perfect solution. So tidy and neat.  
  
Kaede chucked deep in her throat. Loose ends cleaned up, her will made supreme, the future assured for.. . . Sometimes her own brilliant business acumen amazed even her.. . .  
  
-----  
  
"You're insane."  
  
In the dusky glow of late afternoon, Tsukasa paced before the plate glass window of his mother's office. He refused to give the bitch the satisfaction of seeing him lose control. With a steely determination, he forced his voice to remain calm as he looked her in the eye and made his pronouncement.  
  
"Don't talk to your mother like that." Behind him, Doumyouji Sr. lounged in one of the office's deep couches.  
  
"If I had any say in the matter, she wouldn't be my mother." Tsukasa muttered under his breath, too low to be heard. Aloud, he simply said, "I won't do it. Not for her." He fairly sneered the word, as he glared at his mother. "Find some other fool to sacrifice for your fucking obsession."  
  
"Doumyouji Tsukasa. You will Not Speak to your Mother Like that!" his father snapped, from his corner.  
  
Tsukasa wheeled on his father, "Have you heard her? Did you listen to her, father? I'm not going to play her stupid power games. I'll do whatever it takes to see the corporation through. But this is ridiculous!"  
  
"It's for the good of the company, son."  
  
"No it isn't!" Tsukasa argued, "It's all about her stupid obsession, her need to be in control. Think about it, father. I looked at the deal. It was fine before. There is no need to marry me off to finalize the bargain!"  
  
Tsukasa was truly pissed off. There was no other word for it. Sure, when he'd talked to Akira last night, he'd thought about his future with a resigned complacency borne of the expectation that it was a distant future. Not something that would happen tomorrow, or even next week! But that wasn't all that made his blood boil now. It was to Whom he was to be engaged, and why. Tsukasa strongly suspected that his mother was using this whole hotel deal as simply an excuse to get her revenge. She'd been furious with him when he'd spurned his short-lived engagement with Shigeru to date Tsukushi way back when. And now, she'd found a way to force him to comply with her will, after all. To impress upon him that she couldn't be beaten. That the will of Doumyouji Kaede was always supreme, in the end.  
  
Tsukasa cursed himself for a fool. He'd thought that his eventual engagement, when it came, would be to some stranger. It wouldn't matter then, that he cared nothing for them, or they for him. But this scheme of his mother's was infinitely worse. He should have known how devious his mother was, should have known what temptations hotels were for her, should have recalled that the Okawahara family had made their name in hotels. But really, did Kaede honestly think she could force him to become re-affianced to Shigeru, of all people?  
  
There was no fucking way he was going to go through with it. No way in hell.  
  
-------  
  
In a cheerful dining room in a posh Tokyo penthouse, Shigeru was undergoing a similar reaction, but with completely different reasons.  
  
"Mom! I can't marry him. He hates me!" Shigeru protested, her usually lively eyes dulled now by glum shadows.  
  
"Dear, please." Her mother begged. "You know how much we need this deal, if we don't get solid backing for this hotel line, that whole chain might go under. Think how terrible that would be for the economy."  
  
"But why do I have to marry him? I thought you were trying to selloff that whole franchise anyway? It doesn't make any sense. . . . And can't we deal with someone else?"  
  
Now it was her father's turn to sigh from his end of the table, "You know what the Doumyouji corporation is like. Once They decide they want an acquisition, no one else is going to even try to compete. They're all afraid of endangering their future dealings."  
  
"Well, it doesn't matter." Shigeru was firm, as she got up to pace the room, "I won't marry him. And he won't marry me. You can do the deal without us."  
  
"Sweetheart." Her father turned to plead with her, "you don't understand. Kaede insisted. She wouldn't sign the deal without this. It's a good deal. We really need it, The company needs you. And think, your children will be the heirs to both of our corporations."  
  
"No, It's you who don't understand. There won't be any children. Ever. You don't know what you're condemning me to. If you loved me, you'd understand. Call it off. If you don't, then I will! I told you, Tsukasa hates me!"  
  
"We can't." Shigeru now turned to stare in disbelief at her mother. "The deal has already been signed." Mrs. Okawahara held up a fax.  
  
A few minutes later the only sound in the room was a deafening silence, as Mr. and Mrs. Okawahara stared helplessly at each other. Shigeru had fled the room, taking the damning fax with her, and now all her parents could do was wonder if they'd done the right thing.  
  
"We needed this partnership." Mr. Okawahara said at last, trying to convince himself, as much as anyone.  
  
"We do. She'll be all right. She's always been high spirited, you know that. Once she settles down, Shigeru will realize it's all for the best."  
  
"I thought she liked the Doumyouji boy, too? Didn't Kaede say that she was making the engagement a condition of this deal now, because that commoner girl-- what was her name? You know, the one Doumyouji Tsukasa was obsessed over, was finally out of the picture?"  
  
"Yes." Mrs. Okawahara agreed, "And I've known Kaede since we went to school together. What she wants, she gets. She must really think our Shigeru is something special if she wants her to marry her son. They just need to grow up a little, and they'll see that marriage isn't so bad."  
  
"No, it isn't." Mr. Okawahara smiled at his wife, as he reminisced, "Remember how we used to fight when first we were engaged?"  
  
"You threatened to move out of our house. . ."  
  
"You ran away. . ."  
  
"You bought us a new house. . ."  
  
"You came back. . ."  
  
The couple blinked back hazy memories of their youth. . .  
  
"It's been good, hasn't it?"  
  
"It has."  
  
And so, the elder generation tried to reassure itself that just because it had resolved its problems, and risen to obey the call of duty, so too would the younger. But, such is not always the case, especially when the players in the game already have a bad history between them. Would duty triumph? Would happiness suddenly spring from the ashes of resentment that both harbored in their souls? Was even friendship possible? Only time would tell, but As Shigeru and Tsukasa both sulked and railed against their parents, fate, and the injustice of being used as Kaede's bargaining chips, they each felt that the answer to these questions was. . . Not bloody likely.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Hah. I bet you wonder where I'm actually going with all these stupid engagements. You'll find out. Also, what's the real pairing here? It's not Tsukushi/ Tsukasa. that's for damned sure. It's not really Shigeru/tsukasa either. So who is it? Patience, you'll see. Eventually. And, most importantly, Where's Soujiro/ Tsukushi? Where's their cuteness action? It's coming. I swear. Though I'm still deciding which of the two versions of the next chapter I want to actually write-- the happy cute one or the angsty one. If I weren't sick and medicated to the eyeballs right now, I might be able to make up my mind. (that too is the reason this chapter kind of sucks, a lot. I can't work while sick, so I thought I'd try to update. I don't think that was such a good idea, now. blah. I'll deal, you'll deal. And soon there'll be another chapter. I'm also sorry that its off to such a slow start, but then, I've never been much one for fast pacing. 


	4. interlude in a sunbeam

Tsukushi lay sprawled in a sunbeam. Her boyfriend slept on the futon next to her, curled up in a tangle of blankets and pillows.  
  
Her boyfriend. . . . Even now Tsukushi could hardly believe those words. She sneaked a peek at the man next to her. Yup, there could be no mistake about it, There he was. Once the most accomplished playboy in all Tokyo, Nishikado Soujiro. Her Boyfriend. It boggled the brain, it surely did.  
  
Five months is a long time in the life of an average high school student. A lot could happen in five months.  
  
A lot had happened.  
  
It had taken Tsukushi almost four months to finally get over her insecurities and doubts, to push her regrets away. At first, she'd fairly wallowed in regret and remorse, remembering the last she'd seen of Doumyouji, the hurt look in his eyes. But, Soujiro had been there to pull her out of her misery. And not only him, but Akira and Rui too. Yes, it was true, things could have ended better, but the world doesn't always run the way one might wish, so why waste time crying over the past?  
  
Then of course, she'd found herself facing a new question -- was she ready to love again? Her head told her 'No.' But, her Heart said 'Yes.' Bloody inconvenient it was, the way she was always torn in two directions. She hadn't known what to do, hadn't known which organ to trust in. And she'd been afraid. Afraid of more heartbreak, more pain and misunderstanding. Still, Soujiro already trusted her more than Tsukasa ever had, and she trusted him too. . . Her heart had found itself mounting an ever-stronger campaign against her brain.  
  
Nevertheless, she worried about the wisdom of trusting her heart to a man who had always before shown such blithe disregard for the serious side of love, preferring instead to indulge in meaningless dalliances of the flesh. How could she hope to replace his endless stream of pretty girlfriends? Tsukushi, the virgin weed winning out over such eye-catching sexy beauties as populated Soujiro's circle of acquaintances? It was unthinkable. But true.  
  
One night, in a fit of drunken exasperation, Soujiro had sworn an oath. "No more sex until it's with Tsukushi!" he'd proclaimed, to the great mortification of Tsukushi, and the amused delight of Akira and Yuki, who'd been out drinking with them. Akira hadn't believed Soujiro could do it. "A week, maybe two. That's as long as you'll last." He'd laughed, "I mean, when was the last time you went without sex that long? And what even makes you think Makino's going to give in now? It's been three months, already. You could be waiting a long, long time."  
  
"We'll see." Had been Soujiro's enigmatic reply.  
  
A month. An entire month without sex, and hardly even flirting with another girl. It had been hard. So fucking hard. He hadn't ever stopped to think before, just what a rampant libido he had, or how dependent he'd grown on his chosen form of release. By the third week, he'd started to think he understood what had driven Tsukasa to act as he had. Sexual frustration was a terrible thing for a teenaged guy to bear.  
  
And then, Tsukushi kissed him.  
  
It wasn't even that good a kiss. After all, she was relatively inexperienced, not to mention shy. She'd blushed terribly as she'd backed away, her gaze hesitantly flicking up to meet his; trying to read if she'd done the right thing. But still, that one kiss made everything worth it. Soujiro could have gotten laid any time, but he only had the one chance to win Tsukushi.  
  
The satisfaction he felt, as he'd tightened his arms around her and bent down to return the kiss, was immense.  
  
And no, they weren't a perfect couple, weren't perfectly happy. For who ever is, in this imperfect world? Tsukushi still had doubts and insecurities, still would wake late on some nights, a pain in her heart asking her, what was Tsukasa doing now? What was He thinking? She'd lie awake long after, wondering if she'd done the right thing, if somehow along the way she'd made some terrible mistake?  
  
She got jealous when Soujiro flirted with other girls, wondered each time, if he would leave her for one of them. He fretted when he saw her laughing with Rui, in a close approximation of their old ease. And they both wondered how long it could last.  
  
They had not yet had sex. Soujiro wanted to. Tsukushi was afraid. They were working up to it, slowly. As Soujiro confided to Akira one day, "Hell, I can afford to wait a few more months, if that's what it takes. So many years of playing the field, it's like I got a sex stockpile built up inside." Akira had merely laughed.  
  
Yuki encouraged Tsukushi to experiment with Soujiro. "You don't know what you like until you try." After all, Akira had taught her many things. . .  
  
Soujiro enjoyed teaching Tsukushi many similar things. He knew a wide variety of activities he and Tsukushi could enjoy in bed, without her quite having to face the one act she dreaded with such pathological fear.  
  
Tsukushi would have been terribly embarrassed to admit it to anyone, even Yuki, but she wanted more. It was a mark of just how much she'd begun to grow up in recent months, that she could now contemplate moving to the next stage of their relationship with only moderate trepidation.  
  
But all this; all the slow public courtship and deepening physical intimacy, was only part of the story, only the shell of a relationship that their friends were witness to. The truth behind their friendship, and the way it had grown, was a story they kept to themselves. No one else knew of Soujiro's dark depressions, or the self-loathing that swept over him from time to time. No one else, but Tsukushi. And, often it hadn't even been within her power to draw him out, and make him tell her what was wrong. No, all she could do was trust in a newly discovered 6th sense of his moods to help her track him down, in whatever bar or exclusive club he'd taken himself to, and drag him home, before he drowned himself in alcohol and exhausted his misery in the company of beautiful strangers. These times, she would sit by him, let him hold her tightly. She was his anchor, reminding him that he was not alone, that here there was someone who knew him as more than just a fickle seducer.  
  
Other times, It was Tsukushi who needed saving from herself. Early in the winter, she'd stressed out over her poverty, her classes, her continued lack of close friendships outside the F3, and of course, over the pain of finally rejecting Doumyouji. Then, she had worked herself to the point of exhaustion; dashing from class to job to job, coming home only to sleep -- she had been a candle burning at both ends. She lost even more weight, and burnt off the last of her baby fat. For a while, after Doumyouji left, she was a complete wreck. When anyone tried to confront her about her feelings or what she was doing to herself, she would shut them out with a bright smile, and an, "I'm fine, really!" Her refuge was work, but it was killing her. It had been Soujiro who had finally taken matters into his own hands, confronting her one day after work. He'd held up a picture of her, from back when she'd been with Tsukasa and glowing with happiness, and then he'd held up a mirror to show her the haggard shadow she had now become. "What are we going to do about this?" he'd demanded. Eventually, Tsukushi had broken down in tears. Wrapped in shadows, she'd clung to him for hours, until all her tears were gone. It was only then, that she truly began to heal.  
  
Still, they remained 'just friends' for a long time, held back by Tsukushi's fears. Then came the day that had changed everything.  
  
It was a sunny, blustery day in March. Soujiro sat in the tea-room trying to calm himself. But, his hands were shaking, and the tea felt like etching acid in his twisted stomach. Peace would not come, no matter how he tried. Earlier, in a fit of misplaced spring optimism, he had tried calling his elder brother. After all, it was his brother's birthday. Who wouldn't want to hear birthday greetings from one's own younger sibling? But the man had been too long estranged. Soujiro had called him at his office, posing as a patient until he'd heard his brother's voice. But then, as Soujiro began to speak, revealing himself, his brother had grown angry, "What are you doing calling here? Stay out of my life!" were his exact words, as he'd slammed down the receiver. Soujiro had sat listening to the dial tone for almost an hour, before attempting to calm himself through the tea ceremony. When that failed, he restlessly threw on a coat and headed out to pace the streets. He felt utterly rejected and unloved, for there are few worse things in life than the callous rejection from a well-beloved sibling.  
  
Hours later, Tsukushi found him. She'd been going to his house to study that day, but he'd been long gone by then, and he wasn't answering his cell. But she found him nonetheless, by some combination of luck and instinct, in a dark bar in one of the seedier parts of town; not one of his usual haunts at all. She'd marched boldly in, ignoring the stares that followed her -- (what was such a little slip of a girl doing in a place like this?), and unerringly made her way to where Soujiro had ensconced himself at the bar. He'd already had time to drown quite a number of drinks, and was busy flirting with a moderately pretty brunette, when he saw Tsukushi approaching. "So you've come to drag me home again, have you?" he'd drawled sarcastically, letting his frustration and self-disgust color his words. He hated it when Tsukushi saw him like this, but there were times when he couldn't help himself, when old patterns took control, and left his better judgement helpless to act.  
  
Tsukushi had just watched him, peering deeply into his eyes, as if she could read the explanation written there; why he'd gone off this time, what hurts he was hiding from her behind that sneering mask?  
  
The brunette had sneered too, seeing in Tsukushi only a drab wannabe. But she had quite a shock, when Soujiro turned his back on her, sighed, and took Tsukushi's hand. "You're right." He'd spoken almost rhetorically, answering words she hadn't even said aloud. "I don't feel like going home tonight. Let's go someplace else." He'd meant to go to another club, but Tsukushi had taken control; had dragged him to her tiny apartment; full of warmth and remembrances of her loving family. There, seated at her rickety table, a cup of steaming team in his hands, he'd finally broken down and told her about his brother's unfeeling rejection, how much it had hurt; how much he feared never being felt loved again. He always felt ashamed to admit such weakness, but Tsukushi had understood, and, seeing the imploring look in his soulful eyes weakened the last of her defenses. He needed to be loved, and she could no longer deny that love is what she felt for him.  
  
Why else would she hunt him down, time and again, as he suffered from his own self-loathing? Why else would she sit by him and try to absorb his pain, as if by making it her own, she could wash it all away? Why else did she find herself craving the feeling of his arms around her, his heart beating against her cheek? Despite his flaws, despite her own fears, it had to be love.  
  
And that was why she had kissed him, at last. Not only to drive away his misery, his self-loathing, but to tell him that she would give him the understanding he longed for; that she would fill that emptiness he felt; that she would try to give him the love he needed.  
  
All else had followed from that.  
  
In public, they were a more demonstrative couple than Tsukushi would have liked, but not as much as Soujiro wanted. But, they still acted much like they always had -- Soujiro a clever flirt, teasing everyone shamelessly, while Tsukushi took a more serious view, always practical and fussily industrious. In private, they would have surprised almost everyone they knew. Soujiro was serious and introspective, while Tsukushi dreamed faraway dreams, pondering all the mysteries that life had yet to reveal to her.  
  
----  
  
With a long sigh, Tsukushi pulled herself from her daydreaming, as a cloud passed over the sun, dimming the warmth of her sunbeam, and waking her from her reflections.  
  
They'd had a late night last night. Sakurako had called to invite them to her engagement ceremony. She hadn't been happy about it. And rightly so; her fiancé was a dreadfully insipid man, attractive in a forgettable sort of way, passable well mannered, and as artificially bland as Wonderbread. Tsukushi found now, that she couldn't even remember the man's name exactly; she knew it was something dreadfully common . . . Sato Takashi? Something like that. It wasn't important. Sakurako had been icily formal to the man throughout the event; and afterwards, it had been worse. Then, Sakurako had started in on the poor man, subtly making cracks at his expense, casually saying the most cutting remarks, in such a sweet voice, that he hadn't even realized how cruel she was being until it was too late. Tsukushi and Shigeru had tried to restrain Sakurako, shushing her repeatedly, while Akira and Soujiro had distracted Sato. Takashi had looked lost and bewildered, finding himself suddenly thrust among such a group of famously rich, not to mention strong willed, friends, and sought to escape back to his equally bland and quiet cronies. The F3 had only been too glad to let him go.  
  
After that debacle, they'd retreated to Sakurako's house, to console the flaming-haired beauty by getting her stinking drunk. When she'd started hitting on Rui, sometime around four AM., everyone suddenly started looking at their watches, and packing up to leave. Akira and Yuki had escaped first, followed soon after by Rui, who kept having to pull Sakurako off of himself. He mostly looked amused as he did so, though-- after all, she was drunk, and wasn't responsible for her actions. Nevertheless, as he repeatedly told the clingy girl, she had a fiancé now, she wasn't his type, and he needed his sleep now, anyway, thank you very much. Sakurako had pouted as he fled; the last single attractive man in their clique, and then had flung herself at Kazuya.  
  
All in all, if it weren't for the undertone of unhappiness running though the event, it would have been a great party. If only the circumstances hadn't been that of Sakurako's unwilling engagement.  
  
Soujiro and Tsukushi had been the last to leave, after making sure Sakurako got to bed, and helping Kazuya escape with his innocence intact. At last, they'd made it back to Tsukushi's place (her brother was sleeping over at a friend's house this night), and collapsed together onto the inviting futon. Soujiro was too tired to bother trying to make it home, and he preferred sleeping with Tsukushi in this lumpy futon, than in his own empty bed, anyway.  
  
Now, it was mid-afternoon, Soujiro still wasn't awake yet, and Tsukushi felt no need to wake him, or move from her own comfortable position in the sunbeam. Were it not for the startling ring of her phone, she probably would have continued to drowse the afternoon away.  
  
"Don't answer it." Soujiro murmured sleepily, as Tsukushi made to get up.  
  
"It might be important!" Tsukushi protested, "what if Susumu needs me? Or my parents?"  
  
"It's probably just Kazuya." Soujiro grumbled, attempting to snag her wrist and pull Tsukushi back under the blankets, but it was too late; she was already on her feet and reaching for the phone.  
  
"Hello?" Tsukushi queried, picking up the receiver. "Oh! Hi Shigeru! What's up?" her voice dropped in concern as she spoke, " . . . You don't sound so good. . . ?"  
  
A long silence ensued, followed by Tsukushi's gasp and the sound of the phone hitting the floor, as it slipped through her suddenly nerveless fingers.  
  
Soujiro made a lunge, and grabbed the phone from where it lay at Tsukushi's feet, "Yo hey, Shigeru? Whatever it is, we'll be right there. Where are you? . . .Right. . .20 minutes. Bye." All traces of sleep had fled from his voice now, as he stood up to grab Tsukushi's unresponsive shoulders. "What happened? Tsukushi? Is everything OK?"  
  
But all she could bring herself to say was, "I should have listened to you. I never should have picked up that phone."  
  
And that was how Soujiro and Tsukushi learned of Tsukasa's impending return to Japan.  
  
To be continued. . .  
  
whew. finally, 3 chapters later, the intro is truly done. on with the plot! 


	5. Ode to loneliness

hey folks, I hate to tell you this, but this story isn't going to focus on Soujiro/Tsukushi. Hopefully they'll be disappearing back to their little love nest soon. I mean really, any thing I write about them is so totally ooc, it's embarrassing. Anyway, here's ch 4. . . .  
  
Several weeks had passed since that fateful day in Doumyouji Kaede's office. On their respective sides of the world, both Shigeru and Tsukasa had moped, and yelled, and pleaded, and swore, and fought against fate, as their personalities dictated. But to no avail. Their parents were firm; the contracts were signed, and there was nothing they could do, short of running away and hiding in some anonymous exile. Neither was callow enough to shirk their duty to their family and to their company, in such a manner, and thus, plans for the engagement went forward.  
  
And then, Tsukasa returned to Japan. He would not have been pleased to be there under better circumstances, and certainly wasn't under ones such as these. Nevertheless, he went through the motions demanded of him, as the heir to the Doumyouji Corporation. (It might be mentioned that he went through them like a walking corpse, but that would be beside the point). At any rate, all too soon, the day came; the day that Kaede had planned for a grand engagement party and reception. . . .  
  
Tsukasa slouched moodily in his chosen corner of the ballroom. Why did his mother have to make such a big deal out of this whole charade? It wasn't his idea to get married. Hell, he didn't even want to be here. But there hadn't seemed to be any way around it; short of running away, that is. And a Doumyouji didn't run away from his responsibilities.  
  
Such a ridiculous affair this was, too. Kaede had insisted upon holding a reception in the grand ballroom of the Maple Leaf hotel. All the first families of the Japanese business world had been invited, not to mention stars and starlets, politicians and paparazzi. It was truly a circus in here; the room seemed to swim in the light reflecting from sequined gowns and satin dresses, diamond rings and ruby necklaces. Such a lot of wasted wealth. The shallowness of it all enraged Tsukasa.  
  
Last time his mother had had to hastily arrange the engagement. There had been no announcement, no celebration. It was easily done, and just as easily undone. This time, she would not repeat that mistake. This whole event was her public announcement to the world, a statement of the unity of the Okawahara family and the Doumyouji family. It would be a tremendous loss of face to both families if either Shigeru or Tsukasa backed out now.  
  
And so Doumyouji slouched and scowled, and endured the insincere congratulations of the flirtatious models and starlets who had once wished to marry him themselves. Now they would never get their be-ringed hands on his family's tremendous wealth. If they shed any true tears, it was for that.  
  
Across the crowded room, he caught sight of Shigeru, surrounded by her classmates-- one couldn't quite call them friends-- from Eirin. She didn't look like she was enjoying this evening either. But at least she was trying to pretend-- to act like the gracious lady she'd been brought up to be. Which is more than Tsukasa was doing, at the moment.  
  
Tsukasa couldn't watch her long; one glimpse was really more than enough for him. After all, if his mother truly got her way, he'd be seeing Shigeru often, for the rest of his life. Ugh. Maybe it was for the best that his self-pitying reflections were soon interrupted by a familiar, if unwelcome, voice at his shoulder.  
  
"Hey, Tsukasa."  
  
"Rui. What are you doing here?" The person third on his list of people he'd rather not see, anytime, anywhere.  
  
"I got an invite. Same as everyone else." Rui replied simply. "You'd know that, if you ever returned my calls."  
  
His placid, reasonable voice was infuriating. Doumyouji felt his fist tighten and clench. With hard-learned control, he forced himself to relax them again. Just then, his attention was distracted by a ripple in the crowd. He caught his breath sharply, as he recognized the slight figure wending its way through the crowd toward Shigeru. Makino Tsukushi; it could be none other. Doumyouji tried, but could not tear his eyes away, as he saw her again for the first time in five long months. She'd lost more weight; that much was obvious. Her always-thin body had become even tinier. Equally obvious was the fact that she'd begun to gain some of it back, in all the right places. From this distance, it was hard to make out her face distinctly, but it seemed as though she held herself with a new maturity, and the eyes that shone defiantly out at the world were endless wells of compassion and strength. If Tsukushi had seemed attractive to Doumyouji before, now she was breathtaking.  
  
"You should talk to her, you know." Rui's chiding voice at his ear reminded Tsukasa that he was not alone. It was an unwelcome jolt back to reality.  
  
"We have nothing left to say. She made that more than obvious, before." Tsukasa responded stiffly. What right did Rui have to tell him these things anyway?  
  
"You'd be surprised." Rui refused to raise his voice to match Tsukasa's, "She was miserable when you left. You didn't even say goodbye."  
  
"She was the one who told me to go." Even if he had lost all else that was important to him, Tsukasa still had his unyielding pride.  
  
"You could have apologized."  
  
"For what? Anyway, it's too late now." Doumyouji continued fatalistically, even as his eyes continued to track the slender girl, "Too much time has passed. And now there's nothing left to say."  
  
Rui shook his head in exasperation, "You'd be surprised. You could at least be friends. You two left so much unresolved. . . "  
  
"Oh what? You're the expert now?" Tsukasa grew sarcastic, "What the hell do you know about it anyway?"  
  
"It's never too late to reach an understanding." Rui shrugged, "But it's your life. . . And maybe it's best if you leave her alone after all. She's happy now, maybe she doesn't need you back in her life." The way it came out, sounded to Doumyouji's ears, remarkably like a challenge. What was Rui doing? Was he trying to stir up trouble, or merely mend broken bridges between several of his dearest friends? It was surprisingly hard to tell.  
  
Doumyouji continued to watch Tsukushi and Shigeru's interaction, as if his eyes were glued into place. . . .  
  
Tsukushi hadn't wanted to come to this party; she despised the simpering crowds of rich bitches and sleazy money-grubbing men. It was a world so far removed from the comfortable middle class interactions that she grew up with, that every time she was forced into contact with this strata of society, she felt her skin crawl with loathing. Nevertheless, she'd told Shigeru that she'd come, and so she had. Tsukushi knew she could never blend into this crowd, so she didn't really try. She dressed in a casually elegant blouse and skirt, nice enough that people wouldn't stare, but not so glitzy that she would ever be mistaken for someone of importance.  
  
Tsukushi entered the room with a twinge of trepidation-- what if He were here? Well, of course he would be. It was his engagement, after all. Tsukushi sighed. Hopefully, at least she would escape unnoticed. Gracefully she slipped through the press of people until she'd reached Shigeru's side.  
  
"Tsukushi!' Shigeru cried, delighted that one of her real friends had managed to attend. With a blithe disregard she swept from the circle of her Eirin acquaintances to hug Tsukushi enthusiastically. "I'm so glad you could make it!" She was trying quite hard to maintain her normal voluble persona, despite the oppressive sense of foreboding she felt within.  
  
"I can't stay long." Tsukushi apologized, as she returned Shigeru's hug. "But I brought you an engagement present -- something we can do without the guys interfering,." She whispered conspiratorially as she slipped a small box into Shigeru's hands.  
  
"Hmm?" Shigeru took the box and shook it curiously, but no definitive sound was forthcoming. "What is it?"  
  
"Open it and find out." Tsukushi grinned. "Trust me, if nothing else, this will help purge all this shit," here she waved a disdainful hand at the ongoing reception, "from your system."  
  
"You make everything sound like such a mystery." Shigeru pouted, but deftly unwrapped the package. She laughed when she saw what lay within. "Hah. It'd take more than this to empty my stomach." (Within the box, lay a stack of passes for the roller coaster at the amusement park)."You are coming with me, of course?"  
  
"Yup." Tsukushi smiled back encouragingly at her friend. She knew that Shigeru loved roller coasters, and well, just about anything active, and anything that would cause most sane people to double over in nausea. So it was just as well that Tsukushi had a steel-lined stomach as well. It had taken her all week to finally decide on this as a present. She couldn't afford fancy jewelry, or trinkets; knew Shigeru wasn't into standard cute girly things; and in general, had spent a frustrated few days wondering what to get. At last, the idea had sparked her brain. Certainly, it was a gift no one else would think to get. Even Soujiro had though she was crazy.  
  
"Roller-coaster passes?" he'd exclaimed, "You're insane. What kind of present is that for an engagement?"  
  
"A good one." Tsukushi had pouted.  
  
"Whatever you say." Soujiro had rolled his eyes in dismay, "But don't expect me to come with you two."  
  
"You men have such delicate stomachs." Tsukushi had taunted.  
  
"We' can't all be indestructible weeds."  
  
"Shigeru's not a weed."  
  
"No, she's just completely and utterly mad." Soujiro had agreed.  
  
And that had settled that argument. Tsukushi bought the tickets, secretly glad of a present that could give Shigeru an excuse to slip away for some quality 'girl time' with her.  
  
"And this. . ." Tsukushi hesitated briefly before bringing out a second, larger parcel, ". . . is for Doumyouji. Can you give it to him?"  
  
"He's not speaking to me." Shigeru murmured, almost inaudibly, "wouldn't you rather give it to him yourself?"  
  
Tsukushi just blushed and shook her head. "I can't. Please Shigeru, I know it's a lot to ask. You don't even have to tell him whom it's from? Just leave it where he can find it?"  
  
Shigeru sighed and nodded, reluctantly. "Sure, Tsukushi. . . What is it?"  
  
"Nothing. . . nothing important." Tsukushi stammered. "But I couldn't very well come without a present for him, now could I?"  
  
Shigeru rolled her eyes. Tsukushi was plainly lying. But it wasn't her business, and anyway, Shigeru was already preoccupied with her own problems right now.  
  
A few more brief words were exchanged, and Tsukushi gave Shigeru one final hug, and headed slowly for the door. Behind her, a tall shadow detached itself from the far wall, resolved itself into the lean figure of Soujiro, and, sparing a few moments to give Shigeru a brief hug and kiss on the cheek, as well as some words of encouragement, "The sooner you get him into bed the better -- all Tsukasa's problems stem from sexual frustration," followed Tsukushi out. Catching up with her at the door, Soujiro smoothly wrapped an arm around her waist as if it belonged there, and accompanied her away from the crowded hall.  
  
Inside, Shigeru felt infinitely more alone without the couples' quiet support.  
  
Sighing, she turned to survey the crowd, looking for any truly friendly face. Akira had said he'd be here tonight, but she couldn't spot him yet. Sakurako had refused to come, proclaiming that one of these unwanted engagements was quite enough for one month, thank you very much, and she didn't think she could stomach a second. So, now she was all alone. Alone in a crowd.  
  
The only other person who looked as lonely as she felt, was Tsukasa. And he was staring sightlessly at the door. Shigeru felt her hands crumpling into fists as she fought to force down the tears rising in her eyes.  
  
You'd think she'd be happy to be engaged to the man she loved. But no, Shigeru wanted to be loved in return. And here was her soon-to-be fiancé entranced by the sight of his ex-girlfriend walking away with another man. Shigeru looked down at the box she still held in her hands, and wondered just what kind of message Tsukushi was sending to Tsukasa? She wished, with a forlorn kind of hope, that whatever it was, it would force him to realize a truth that the rest of the F4 had figured out months ago-- that Tsukushi was no longer the same person he'd fallen in love with. She'd changed while he was away, under the tutelage of Soujiro and Akira. No longer the innocent who blushed at every innuendo and babbled incoherently when stressed, she'd grown into a deeper, wiser, less violent person. If Tsukasa could see the changes, maybe he'd realize that the past was truly gone for good.  
  
". . . And maybe he'll be more inclined to give me a chance. . ." Shigeru pled silently, feeling even as she did so, that it was already a lost cause. Why she bothered to hope, she didn't know. Maybe it was because she had no other option, than to trust to luck and fate to help her.  
  
If she could forget the fact that she wanted him, and pretend that this marriage was a meaningless business arrangement, it would be easier. But somehow, she never could seem to put it behind her. She would do almost anything to try and make Tsukasa happy. But that was beyond her power.  
  
Finally, when Shigeru could almost take this milling around no longer, Akira tapped her on the shoulder.  
  
"Hey beautiful," he leered, teasingly, "What's a lady like you doing in a dive like this?"  
  
"Waiting for my prince charming to come along and sweep me off my feet." Shigeru replied in the same tone; trying to distract herself from the truth for just a minute. "Would you happen to know where I might find him?"  
  
Akira arched an eyebrow, "I think he's waiting up at the podium.' He nodded towards a small dais, where indeed, Tsukasa had been herded by his mother and her guards, "I think you better join him."  
  
"Shit." Shigeru winced, and hastily settled a serene expression across her troubled features. Shrugging her shoulders back, she adopted a posture more suitable to an heiress than the depressed droop she'd just had, and started to turn towards the stage.  
  
"Hey wait a sec!" Akira hastily interrupted, "Are you coming to my afterparty?"  
  
"Will Tsukushi be there?" Shigeru turned slightly, with a hopeful tone in her voice.  
  
"I dunno. But I think I persuaded Sakurako to come. And, of course, I'm kidnapping Tsukasa for the night."  
  
Shigeru winced, "Thanks, but I think I'll just go home and sleep. . ."  
  
"Come on. . . " Akira pled, "You two haven't talked at all since he got back, have you? And you're getting engaged. Don't you think you have some catching up to do?"  
  
Shigeru just gave a tight shake of her head. It was hardly a motion at all. "He doesn't want to talk to me. He's just here to give me the ring. Then he's going back to New York. What's there to say?" She felt like she was about to break into tears right there. With an effort, she choked back on the waterworks, and handed Akira the gift Tsukushi had brought. "Here, can you give this to him? It's from Tsukushi.. . I have to go."  
  
She sprinted off towards the podium at a most unladylike speed.  
  
Akira merely shook his head. "What a tomboy." Was all he muttered aloud. Inwardly, all he could think was, "This does not bode well for their future. Maybe I need to have a talk with Tsukasa?" Where by 'talk' he meant, 'tie Tsukasa up and yell at him, until the man saw reason and stopped acting like such a brat.'  
  
Akira slunk to the back of the hall, where Rui waited.  
  
"We need a plan."  
  
Rui nodded, knowing exactly what Akira was referring to, "What do you suggest?"  
  
Together the two boys put their heads together, as in the forefront of the chamber, Tsukasa formally presented Shigeru with her diamond engagement ring, and reluctantly sealed the deal with a hasty peck on her cheek.  
  
If Shigeru's eyes shone with unshed tears at that moment; they were widely assumed to be tears of joy. Two boys in the back, and one who stood before her glowering, knew differently.  
  
-----  
  
At last, the reception was over. Shigeru shrugged on her jacket, while her mother dithered about, receiving insincere congratulations from the last of the departing guests.  
  
"Are you coming home with your father and I?" Mrs. Okawahara asked her daughter.  
  
"Nah," Shigeru lied smoothly, "Akira's having a get together with the rest of the guys. I think I'll go there."  
  
"Oh. Ok." Her mother smiled, "It's so nice to see you young folks getting along after all the fuss you put up"  
  
Shigeru just shrugged gracefully, and let her mother keep her illusions. She really had no intention of going anywhere near her friends or her fiancée this evening. She merely wanted an excuse to disappear, and get as far away from her reality as she could for a few hours.  
  
In short, she was taking a page from Soujiro's book of "What Not to do when Depressed" and following it exactly.  
  
"Don't worry if I don't come home before morning," Shigeru continued. "If the party runs late, I'll probably just crash at Akira's. And I have my cell if you need me." No sense in giving her parents any cause to worry. As her mother nodded complacently, Shigeru slipped out the door and made her escape down the street.  
  
Strolling through the dark streets, Shigeru pondered her options: bar or club? She liked to dance, but she was still dressed a bit too formally for that. And, a more mellowly dark bar probably suited her mood better than some peppy techno beats.  
  
At last, she chose a comfortable-looking private club that she couldn't remember ever having been to before. At the very least, the chances of running into anyone she knew here were vanishingly slim. Right now, that is what she wanted most. Anonymity, Angst, and Alcohol. A lethal combination in the strongest of systems.  
  
Shigeru was certain she could take it.  
  
She was certain that right now, it was exactly what she needed.  
  
And who was there to prove her wrong?  
  
---  
  
Shigeru looked around, and finally settled herself on a comfortable couch in one of the quieter and more sparsely populated rooms. Sugar. That was what she needed now. Sugar and Alcohol.  
  
. . . "Now, which drinks are the sweetest?" Shigeru mused to herself. "Damn, if only Akira were here. He knows what's in everything." She ended up ordering a cosmopolitan, as a suitably girly drink. "Mmm. . sugar. . ."  
  
Shigeru sipped her drink, letting the soothing warmth of the alcohol wash over her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine herself wrapped up in someone's loving arms. Shigeru kept her eyes closed until the feeling leeched out of her bones, leaving her cold and empty. The dream was too short, and if she opened her eyes, there'd be no one there, no Tsukasa, nor anyone else. Would there ever be?  
  
Shigeru ordered another drink, a lemondrop this time. Slowly she licked the sugar from the rim of the glass, savoring the sticky sweetness on her lips. She was a physical animal. She'd always reveled in sensation, in tastes, and color, and actions. She loved to run and sweep others off their feet in a burst of pure enthusiasm. She was always bored when she couldn't be out scheming something, or shopping, or trying something new. But now, she felt trapped; what use was her energy and her enthusiasm when there was no one to share it with?  
  
She'd tried twice before to win over Tsukasa. The first time she'd failed utterly and completely. Even when she'd jumped him, it hadn't been enough to take his mind off Tsukushi. Such single-mindedness; it would be impressive if it weren't so frustrating. The second attempt died before even half-begun.  
  
Shigeru downed the rest of her now-sour drink in one smooth swallow. It was after Tsukushi returned from that fishing village after dumping Tsukasa. Shigeru had tried then, to ask him out, over coffee. But Tsukasa was obsessed. He'd thought about it, for all of two seconds, before refusing, and setting off after Tsukushi again.  
  
"Maybe I'd have had a chance if not for her." Shigeru sighed, as she drew circles in the condensation rings on the low table in front of her. But who could stay jealous of Tsukushi? And why couldn't Tsukasa see there was more to life? "He'll always be blind to me." Shigeru lamented. "He looks at me, and looks right through me, and I'm not even there. . ."  
  
The sugar was no longer helping. It was time for stronger medicine. Shigeru ordered a vodka shot and a glass of water. She gulped the one and sipped the other, mindlessly watching the flux of people in the room, and twisting, twisting, twisting the shiny new diamond engagement ring that weighted down her hand like the shackles of hell.  
  
Time passed. Shigeru watched the waiters change shifts, listened to the music selection change, and studied the couples and groups that entered the room. It seemed that everyone here was part of a group but her. They talked, and laughed, and smiled, and belonged! The couples smiled at each other and held hands, and kissed.  
  
Only Shigeru was all alone. Her finger was getting red from the friction of her endless fidgeting with that damned ring.  
  
Something Sakurako had said last week percolated up from the depths of her subconscious. "Just because you're marrying him, that doesn't mean you have to depend on him for your happiness!" She'd said. "Really, do you think I'm going to get any satisfaction out of Sato? Not bloody likely."  
  
"What are you saying?" Shigeru had exclaimed, horrified at Sakurako's blunt way of putting things.  
  
"What do you think? If your husband is a loser, there's plenty of men out there who'll give you what you need. Right Akira?" Sakurako had turned to the pretty boy.  
  
"Yup!" Akira had beamed back, "Some of my best girlfriends were married! -- Err, shit. Don't tell Yuki I said that!"  
  
"See," Sakurako had nodded. "My point, exactly. So don't be so sad, Shigeru, we'll find you someone. Just have patience and wait till Tsukasa's gone back to New York."  
  
". . . But I really only want Tsukasa." Shigeru had replied in her mind, though the actual words stuck in her throat. "It would all be all right, if he'd just love me back."  
  
Well, that wouldn't happen. And now she was left to wonder if she could ever become the sort of person that Sakurako was. Sneaking around and finding release in illicit trysts and flings, in unsavory alliances and secret love nests? Could she really find someone else to love in such a situation? Shigeru let out a long sigh. She was thinking too much. She needed another drink. Still gazing steadily at the endless circles she'd traced on the table, she lifted a graceful hand, and signaled the bartender to send a waiter over.  
  
"Nice Diamond." The waiter's appreciative tone brought her back to reality, and Shigeru realized that her hand was still propped in the air. Hastily she snatched it down, and stared in hatred at the glittering stone.  
  
"I hate it." she muttered, tearing her eyes away again, "I'll have a vodka tonic . . " she trailed off as her eyes met those of her waiter, ". . .Doumyouji?" She did a double take, "I haven't had That much to drink." She rubbed her eyes and looked again.  
  
The waiter just laughed, "It's been a long time since I heard that name."  
  
Shigeru stared blankly at the handsome face that so perfectly mirrored that of her fiancé. Slowly she blinked a few times, as dawning recognition overtook her.  
  
"You were the imposter! Tsukasa's fake cousin! .. . Ah. . . What was your name again?"  
  
"Amon. Kunisawa Amon."  
  
. . . To be continued.  
  
Brain: well it fucking took you long enough. I said concise! Concise damn it!  
  
Fingers: fuck you. Who's in control here?  
  
B: I thought I was.  
  
F: you're so wrong,  
  
B: what's so wrong with wanting to get to the point already? Did I ask you for all that angst? And what the fuck was that whole reception scene? I said I wanted a single plot point: Shigeru drunk in a bar with Amon. Why the hell did it take this many words to get her here?  
  
F: you're the one who taught us to type content-free 15 page papers in 3 hours. What do you expect?  
  
Left hand: excuse me, when do I get to type anything? You haven't let me write anything in 11 years.  
  
Fingers + brain: oh shut up and hold my drink.  
  
No wonder nothing makes any sense. . .  
  
Alcohol. Alcohol is an amazing thing. I just wish we really could blame all our mistakes on it. I wish I could afford to be out drinking right now. 


	6. Why would you want that?

sigh, so few reviews for that chapter. It's weird, the less shitty I think my writing is, the fewer readers I get. I must be confused. Don't know why I'm bothering to update either. Must be because I'm tired of beating my head against the wall trying to design metas. And yes yes, you think you know where the plot is heading-- this chapter will do nothing to dispel that belief. but ch 8 or 9 might (not that I have any clue when I'm going to pull the time to write that far from.) gah. On with the stupidity   
  
"Wow. . ." Shigeru thought incoherently, "He really does look almost exactly like Tsukasa." That is, if you ignored the hair, the waiter's garb, or the fact that his eyes, while not exactly warm, still weren't the iced- over flint orbs that Doumyouji had turned her way only a few short hours before.  
  
Amon regarded the mesmerized girl with amusement, "If you're done drooling, you might tell me your name."  
  
"Ah." Shigeru snapped back to reality. "Sorry.. . The resemblance is uncanny. I'd forgotten . . " She shook herself trying to regain her scattered wits, "I'm Okawahara Shigeru."  
  
"Ah. . . Another rich brat." Amon drawled, as he recognized the name. Almost as an afterthought, he remembered his waiterly duties "What'll you have to drink?"  
  
"Vodka Tonic." The words slipped from her lips while Shigeru's mind was still occupied with an attempt to surreptitiously examine the man who stood before her. Even dressed in his uniform, he still had the height and muscle tone that made women throw themselves at him. His attitude was reserved, yet a bitterly sarcastic streak slipped through, even in his dealings with his customers. With a slight shiver, Shigeru remembered how this man had once been paid by Kaede to seduce Tsukushi, and how he'd initially pursued this goal with a callous coldness. It was only later that he'd seemed to warm and become human, almost--if Tsukushi could be believed-- a decent guy. (But then, Shigeru reflected, Tsukushi was willing to believe the best of almost anyone).  
  
"Right," Amon turned away, almost as if he was the one dismissing her. Shigeru watched him leave. . . But in her mind's eye, it was Tsukasa she saw walking away, not this stranger.  
  
A few minutes later, when Amon returned with her drink, Shigeru was still sunk in thought.  
  
"Hello? Anybody home?" Amon waved a hand in front of her glazed eyes.  
  
"Eh?" Shigeru let the room snap back into focus, and reached for her glass. "Thanks."  
  
"Do you know Makino Tsukushi?" Amon still stood in front of her, eyeing her disinterestedly. He really didn't much care for rich kids -- spoiled, pampered brats who'd never had to work a day in their lives. But, on the other hand, he hadn't heard from Tsukushi in a very long time, and if this chick knew Doumyouji, than she might know Tsukushi as well. . . And, Amon reflected (though no hint of his thought ever touched his face), it would be nice to know how the strong willed, if foolish, girl was faring since she'd chosen the hard road for herself.  
  
"She's one of my best friends." Shigeru admitted, not quite knowing why she was talking to this man -- perhaps it was because Tsukushi had trusted him, despite his lies, or maybe (and this she hated herself for), she wanted to open up to him, because he looked so much like Doumyouji. A calmer, less disappointed, less angry Doumyouji -- a version of Doumyouji she could only dream about.  
  
"Really?" Amon finally allowed himself to look interested. "How is she these days? She still with my childish clone?"  
  
"No." Shigeru replied flatly, restlessly twisting her engagement ring once more.  
  
"She finally got the sense to dump him? Or did he get bored like I thought he would and leave her? I told her he'd never be able to make her happy. Girls like Makino should stay with their own kind!" With a start, Amon realized he was getting worked up, and forced himself to calm down. It was a long time ago, and he'd had plenty of other girlfriends since then. Makino was nothing to get worked up about -- even if none of his other women were ever anything like her. . .  
  
"Ah. . ." Shigeru began, uncertain of just what to say. "Well, she dumped him last fall.. . ."  
  
"Good for her." Amon nodded, "Guys like him can't make a girl happy." He was 22 and insufferably smug. He thought he knew everything about relationships between men and women. Still he wasn't at all prepared for what Shigeru did next.  
  
"I know." It was said so low, he almost didn't catch the words. But more impressive was the way she downed the rest of her vodka in one gulp and burst into tears - tears which flowed he harder for having been suppressed for so many hours, "He's my fiancé."  
  
Amon watched while Shigeru released her flood of tears. It wasn't really his place to comment. And maybe he shouldn't have been so harsh in his appraisal of Tsukasa-- even if he was right. Silently, he went back to the bar and fetched Shigeru a glass of water and another vodka tonic.  
  
"Here," he handed her the alcohol first, as her tears subsided. "It's on me. This'll make you feel better."  
  
Shigeru laughed bitterly. "It hasn't done such a great job so far." Nevertheless, she drank it all. "Don't you have other customers to be seeing to?" She was embarrassed at having made such a public display of her emotions in front of such a stranger.  
  
Amon looked around, and shrugged, "Eh, whatever. They have feet. They can get their own damned drinks."  
  
"Do you still like Tsukushi?" Shigeru was pulling herself together, but a terrible little idea had taken root in her brain back when she'd first started the conversation with Amon. Watered now with her tears, it threatened to blossom into an utter triumph of impulsiveness and irrationality-- two of Shigeru's specialties.  
  
Amon blinked, and did a double take at this non- sequitur. "Like? What does that mean?" he shrugged off the question, "She interested me."  
  
"Ah." Shigeru breathed sadly, as if he'd answered the question completely differently, (or at least more truthfully), "Can you tell me why everyone falls in love with her?" Shigeru didn't mean to whine, or to sound jealous, but with all the pent-up frustration in her soul, not to mention the loosening effect of the copious quantities of alcohol she'd just consumed, she could not longer control the words that fell from her shapely lips. "Or is there something wrong with me? Every body loves her. All the guys she knows fall for her. But none even look my way twice? Am I ugly, and do I not know it? I used to have such confidence in myself. And now. . .I hate it. I hate it all." Her already red eyes were beginning to fill with tears once more. ". . . And mostly, I hate myself for being so selfish. . ." she trailed off in a whisper.  
  
"Maybe you just know the wrong people." Amon suggested, unfazed by this outburst. Depressed drunks were nothing new in this business.  
  
"Do you think I'm attractive?" Shigeru unfolded from her slump, and looked Amon in the eye, as if daring him to find some flaw in her physique.  
  
Amon, not one to pass up an opportunity, let his gaze slowly and appreciatively travel over her body. Long athletic legs, well toned, but not overly muscled. A flat stomach. . . nice curves. . . all topped by a face meant for laughter, not the grim lips and dull eyes now shown. Overall, not bad. Definitely an attractive package. Still, Amon paused before answering, "Not my type."  
  
Shigeru sighed in disappointment. "That's what they all say."  
  
Amon shrugged, "You're engaged. Go seduce your fiancé. I wish you luck with that little brat." He turned as if to leave, again.  
  
"Wait!" Shigeru called out in sudden desperation.". . . Can you. . . Will you. . . do me a favor before you leave?"  
  
"Depends." Amon slowly turned back around, "What is it?"  
  
". . .Can you. . ." Shigeru began hesitantly, working up her nerve, ". . can you kiss me?"  
  
"What did I just say?" Amon responded impatiently, "Go home to your fiancé."  
  
"I can pay!" Shigeru desperately dug in her purse for a wad of bills.  
  
Amon blinked at this sudden display, "Go home little rich girl. And put that money away before someone gets the idea to mug you."  
  
"Please. . . " Shigeru pled, "He doesn't want me. . . just once, that's all I ask. . ."  
  
Amon let out a sigh. What was a kiss? Nothing. A silly trifle. He felt obscurely sorry for his sad little rich girl, and despite his unwillingness to become entangled in anything concerning the Doumyouji family ever again, this favor couldn't possibly have repercussions. With a little luck, the girl would be too drunk to remember in the morning anyway. There was something disturbing though, in the way this girl seemed to look at him like he was some sort of stand-in for her absent fiancé.  
  
Whatever. Amon shrugged it off. What did he care for this chick's issues? It was nothing to him. She was no more important than all the other sluts who hung around him vying for his attention.  
  
He made his way back to where Shigeru sat frozen, either in disappointment, or upset at her own audacity, it was hard to tell.  
  
"Just one." He ticked the point off on his fingers, "Then you are going home and forget it. There will be no scenes while I'm on duty. Got it?"  
  
"Yes." Shigeru nodded meekly, suddenly frightened by her own request.  
  
"Well then."  
  
Amon settled himself on the couch next to Shigeru, leaned in, and closed his eyes, as their lips made contact.  
  
To be continued.  
  
well shit, that chapter wasn't as good as I wanted it to be. Doubly sucks since I already trashed the whole first version of it. oh well what I get for trying to meet my weekly quota when I've only got two hours and my brain's full of rotting maggots . and remember. No reviews mean no update. Need my ego boost. Blah.. . 


	7. proposition

Shigeru's eyes remained open as she pressed her lips to Amon's. In the dim light of the club it was so easy to let herself believe that it was Tsukasa's warm lips brushing hers, that it was his playful tongue that found itself exploring the sensual geography behind her lips.  
  
Shigeru let herself dissolve into this pleasantly harmless fantasy for the too-brief duration of the moment. It may not have been a tender kiss -- you couldn't expect that sort of thing from a stranger -- but at least it was a skillful, deeply satisfying one, and Shigeru sighed in regret as Amon detached himself.  
  
His face betrayed no emotion, no hint that he'd done anything unusual. And who is to say that it wasn't usual behavior for him?  
  
"There now," he said briskly, "That what you wanted?"  
  
Shigeru could only nod, as his voice shredded the last few crystalline remnants of her fantasy. He wasn't Doumyouji, and would never be. Though his familiar features might call out to her aching heart, she knew it was only a lie. "But still". . . she reasoned stubbornly, irrationally, albeit silently, "We all tell ourselves lies. How is this one worse than any others?"  
  
A wiser voice would have told her simply, "Oh Shigeru, you're drunk. You know you get maudlin when you're drunk. Go home, and go to sleep. In the morning you'll realize that no good can come of logic like that." But that voice of reason had fallen asleep several drinks ago, and now the only voice left in Shigeru's mind was the one shouting petulantly, "I don't care! I'll do what I like! It's my life after all!"  
  
"It's my life." Shigeru repeated silently, "My life. And I'll do what I want. What I need to do."  
  
Right now, she wanted to feel special. Wanted to feel desired. And she didn't care what she had to do to get that feeling. The kiss had been one thing. It had been good. But it was not enough. Shigeru knew she was being selfish, but she'd had enough of being the one to stand by and cheer others on. When was she going to get her turn in the spotlight? Where was her chance for happiness?  
  
Nowhere in sight, it seemed.  
  
But there were always other alternatives. . .  
  
All this flashed through her hyperactive brain, in less time than it took her to inhale deeply, and press on.  
  
"Will you sleep with me?" She even managed to look Amon straight in the eye while asking.  
  
Amon struggled for a second to contain his laughter. He failed, and shook his head helplessly as he laughed. It wasn't a cruel laugh, not really, but still. . . It was obviously a rejection and Shigeru blushed crimson in embarrassment.  
  
"Go home, girly." Amon gasped as he recovered his breath, "What do you think I am, some kind of gigolo? Go get yourself some other pretty boy-toy to keep you warm tonight. I've got customers to serve." Even if he hadn't been put off by her obvious desire to cast him as a stand-in for her absent fiancé, he doubted he'd have taken her up on her proposition anyway. These days, you never knew just what kind of psycho-bitch lurked behind even the pleasantest of exteriors. Rich kids were the worst, too. They always seemed to have this attitude that their money gave them the right to order others around, and to be treated like goddesses. Even what was supposed to be the most minor of flings could turn into a painful morning after, with that sort of person. Amon had no need to test those waters ever again. He was never short of admirers, and he'd rather take his pick from among that stable, than accept offers from clearly deranged girl.  
  
"I'll pay you." Shigeru persisted with a sort of near desperation.  
  
"What did I just say?" I'm not a whore." Amon could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. He knew that kiss had been a bad idea. "Go home. Here, I'll go call you a cab." What was it with this chick?  
  
"Don't be such a hypocrite." Shigeru glared from the angry depths of her alcoholic haze. "You took money once to seduce Tsukushi. At least this is more honest."  
  
Amon was really starting to get pissed off. You'd think it wouldn't take so much effort to get her to just give up. And she had no right to bring up the whole Tsukushi thing.  
  
"You.. . " He hissed furiously, trying, even in his anger, to avoid a scene that'd get him fired from yet another job, ". . . don't understand a thing. And you don't know half so much as you'd like to think. Fucking rich kids. Have the world in their hands and don't even know it. Be happy with what you've got, and don't push your luck for something you can't have."  
  
He knew why he was getting angry. This silly girl thought she knew him; knew everything important about him, from one incident so long ago. But she didn't know anything at all. Didn't know how he'd been before he'd met Tsukushi. Didn't know how chasing after Makino had changed him. Didn't know how the emptiness in his life had lessened when he had her interests to look after-- and how it had returned when she'd left his life, returned all the worse for knowing what he lacked. But he wasn't the type to care for others; he looked down on most people as ignorant, immature, inferior; refused to believe in love; and, in all, was swallowed by an abyss of cynicism from which there was little escape.  
  
After Makino had gone, he'd tried for a while to find himself a better class of friends -- a social circle that didn't cater to his crudest impulses. But, bit by bit, he'd found himself slipping back into old habits, partying with self-absorbed, selfish people, who only sought that which brought themselves pleasure-- never caring for the inner thoughts or feelings of others. His friends were smart, it was true. Smarter than you'd think if you met them one night at a bar. But, they were callous, cold, and selfish, and Amon was inexorably drawn back under their influence. He hated himself for it, but made little attempt to escape the trap, falsely comforting himself with the rationalization that he could change any time; that he just needed to find the right sort of person, the right sort of crowd, in which to start all over again.  
  
Any time. Really. It could happen.  
  
But it never did.  
  
And now, Amon was lonely and bitter, and there was no way he was going to let some depressed rich girl poke at his raggedly exposed nerves. He turned and strode away from Shigeru's corner.  
  
Back at the bar, he briefly busied himself in finding clean glasses for a large order at another table.  
  
"I see you're scoring with the customers again," The bartender jovially elbowed Amon in the ribs. "Too bad you've got the late shift tonight. You gonna hook up when you get off later?"  
  
"Nah," Amon's lazy answering grin belied the irritation gleaming in his eyes, "Not my type. There's plenty of time left to see what else might drop in tonight."  
  
"Yeah, you right." The bartender laughed, as if at some private joke, and went back to his drink-mixing.  
  
When Amon finally glanced towards Shigeru's corner again, the blonde girl was gone.  
  
". . . And good riddance." He thought, surprising himself with the true ire he felt. It wasn't like him to stay so worked up over such a stupid occurrence. He reassured himself that he was just stressed over finals at college. This was his last term, and he needed to do well, so he could get a real job instead of this menial and meaningless table-waiting.  
  
When at last his cleaning rounds took him by Shigeru's empty table, he discovered her cell phone, lying in a corner of the couch.  
  
Absently, he pocketed it, intending to dump it at the bar with all the other lost phones that accumulated every night at the club.  
  
Somehow though, it never made in into the box with all the others.. . .  
  
-------  
  
The scene that evening at Akira's house was radically different.  
  
"Dude, I still can't believe you actually showed up." Akira directed his remark at Soujiro, who was, at that moment, comfortably lounging in an overstuffed couch. Tsukasa and Rui were nowhere in sight.  
  
"Eh," Soujiro shrugged, "I can't believe Tsukasa is capable of staying angry this long. I mean, what. . . five months? He can sulk all he wants, but he won't get violent. He always was more of the flaring type."  
  
"You'd better hope that. . ."  
  
". . . And besides," Soujiro plowed on obliviously, "Tsukushi's writing a paper tonight, or some such nonsense. And she's all stressed -- you know what she's like when she's stressed-- so what else was I going to do with my time?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. . ." Akira sighed in resignation, "Just remember, if you and Tsukasa get in a fight, please try to take it outside. I really don't want to have to replace the new carpets, just because you had the bad grace to bleed on them."  
  
"Sure man. You got it." Soujiro grinned, "Hey, when is the guest of honor showing up anyway? And where's Rui?"  
  
Akira looked at his watch. "Rui should be showing up any moment now. And Tsukasa will be arriving in . . . 10 minutes."  
  
"Are you sure he's coming?" Soujiro remained skeptical. From the brief glimpse he'd caught at the reception, Tsukasa hadn't looked like he'd be up for any sort of social event this evening, much less a drinking party with his estranged friends.  
  
"Oh ye of little faith." Akira preened, "I'll have you know that I bribed the Doumyouji family security guards to bring Tsukasa directly here after the reception. He doesn't get a choice in the matter."  
  
"Hah. And you really think that's going to work?" A new voice broke into the conversation.  
  
"Of course. Hey Sakurako, where's your lucky man?"  
  
"Ditched him." Sakurako shrugged, "What, you didn't honestly think he was going to chill with the ever-so-famous-and spectacular F4? Oh god, he'd pee his pants at the very thought."  
  
"Geez. . ." Akira shook his head at her choice of words. Sakurako's bitterness tonight was already reaching new heights, and the night was still young.  
  
Sakurako opened her mouth to continue her mini rant. However, to her disappointment, and the two boys' great relief, she was interrupted in mid- breath by a commotion at the door.  
  
"Ah, yes. That'll be the Man himself." Akira smirked. "Right on schedule."  
  
Soujiro snorted at Akira's complacency. Just how long did he honestly think they could keep Tsukasa here?  
  
"Oh yeah." Akira began as if remembering something, "Is Makino going to be joining us in here at all? . . .That might cause problems, you know."  
  
"Ah, don't worry." Soujiro jerked his head towards one of the rooms down the hall, "I left her in our room, with my laptop and her notes. She'll be writing all night. I don't think she'd notice if the house started to burn down around her."  
  
"Riight. . .." Akira nodded. Frankly, he was a bit skeptical of the wisdom of even having Soujiro present at this shindig. He hated to think what Doumyouji's reaction would be if he realized that the object of his unrequited desires was sitting in the same house, not 50 feet from where they now where. But, Soujiro had been adamant. "Tsukushi's brother is having friends over. She can't study there. We're coming to your place.." Not to mention the fact, that once again, Akira's family was travelling, and they'd have no fears of being interrupted in the night by inquisitive siblings or other family members.  
  
Soon, a furiously struggling Doumyouji was hauled into the den by four burly security men plus Rui.  
  
"Goddamnit! Stop touching me!" Tsukasa shook off the offending arms and straightened out his jacket. "Akira, what the hell do you think you're doing? You could have just asked me to come over.. . . " . . . And that was when he noticed the room's other occupants.  
  
To be continued. . .  
  
oof. another short chapter. I need more free time. I'm still trying to work the bugs out of amon's character, so please bear with me as I try to figure out who he is. The manga really isn't much help in telling me what makes him tick. Or maybe it's just the translation I read. Oh well. I had an inspiration in class today, and now I know where I'm going with this. The real plot twisting will begin in. . . 3 chapters? I think that's it. yeah. You're all so going to kill me. I should get to that point by the end of may.  
  
I'm going to start a new paragraph now --curdled's rant of the day, because fuck it, there has to be one. And here it is:  
  
Why is it that rui is always portrayed as being sleepy all the time? he was only a sleep fiend in the first few books. Once he started waking up to the world there was much less sleep. He's a lazy fuck, not a narcoleptic for godssake And what the hell kind of fool falls in love with someone so boringly perfect as shizuka anyway? So dull. Rui is too damned boring to write, because he is so uninvolved, and this is why everyone writes him as such a sloth. Even akira is more fun to describe.  
  
And that was the rant. Until next time. . . 


	8. trouble's brewing can't you smell it?

Silence reigned for a brief second in Akira's den. The sudden tension was palpable as Tsukasa's eyes hardened over with an icy glaze.  
  
Remarkably, however, he did nothing. His erstwhile friends could almost see the battle that was being waged inside his head, as Doumyouji fought the urge to turn on his heel, leave the house, and board the first plane back to New York. Each familiar face; each place he visited; each voice reminded him of the things he'd lost. The things he'd given up. The time when he used to have a life. . . used to call these three boys his friends, and had a girlfriend named Makino Tsukushi.  
  
It would be so simple to ignore the past. To turn his back again; to dive into work as he'd done for the past winter. To live the life of duty and regret.  
  
But now, it didn't seem as if events would let him do that. Or rather, it didn't seem as if the people gathered here tonight would let him do that. They didn't seem to realize the pain he felt; the hell that he considered his life to be. Or maybe they just didn't care.  
  
Still, a dull murmur arising from the older, wiser depths of his conscious told him that maybe they did know. Maybe they really did care, and this was how they attempted to show it.  
  
With this thought, Doumyouji forced himself to remain calm. He took one deep breath. Exhaled. Took Another. The whole room seemed to hold its collective breath while the four friends waited for his reaction.  
  
"Hello Sakurako, Soujiro. I didn't expect to see you here." His voice was leaden and bleached of all emotion. But at least it was civil.  
  
"It's good to see you too, Tsukasa." Soujiro grinned, as if there was no tension in the room. No, none at all, "You ready to get stinking drunk with us?"  
  
Akira was already opening up a magnum of champagne and filling up a row of crystal champagne flutes.  
  
As Rui quietly took a seat next to Soujiro, Sakurako reached out and snagged a very full glass.  
  
"To unwanted partners," She muttered and downed the whole thing.  
  
"Hey!" Akira protested, "You're supposed to wait for the toast!"  
  
"Just give me another one." She glared at him darkly until he refilled her flute. "Cheers, Tsukasa. Now there's two of us."  
  
"Stop being such a killjoy." Soujiro began. "We're here to relax."  
  
"Relax, my ass." Sakurako barked bitterly, "Wait till it's your turn."  
  
"Akira," Rui leaned over and murmured quietly to the other boy, "I think you should cut Sakurako off after the toast. She was drinking pretty heavily before she got here."  
  
"Right," Akira nodded. He always got stuck playing bartender. Not that he minded the mixing drinks part. It was just the other responsibilities that he found oppressive. However, he fully agreed with Rui's assessment. Sakurako had been turning into quite the lush in the three weeks since her engagement. It had gotten so bad that the three boys, themselves known for their occasional intemperate binges, had grown quite concerned. There were better ways to cope with disappointment than liquor; they merely had yet to find which of these solutions was adequate for Sakurako. . . and now, Akira and Rui at least, feared they might have to do something about Tsukasa as well. Soujiro-- perhaps due to Tsukushi's influence -- was more worried about Shigeru.  
  
All in all, the circle of friends was experiencing more than its fair share of emotional trauma, and the currently stable members were beginning to wonder if they were capable of handling all the fallout.  
  
Finally, Akira got the champagne flutes distributed. Tsukasa eyed his like it was full of poison.  
  
"What shall we toast to?" Soujiro asked quietly, as he looked around the room at his friends' solemn faces.  
  
Surprisingly, it was Rui who broke the ensuing silence, "To unexpected changes."  
  
"Huh?" Akira squinted, "What the hell kind of toast is that?"  
  
"No." Tsukasa interrupted slowly, "It's as good as any other wish." Meaning; just another illusory dream; another pretense that free will existed, and life was a continually fresh adventure. "I'll drink to that."  
  
"Well then," Soujiro hoisted his glass, as the rest of the group followed suit, "To the unexpected."  
  
They drank. Sakurako held out her glass for another refill. Pretending not to understand the request, Akira took her flute away, ignoring the vehement scowl she shot his way.  
  
"That's enough, Sakurako." Rui reprimanded. She started to phrase a cutting retort, but was silenced by the look in his eye. Sulkily, she flounced in her seat.  
  
"So, Tsukasa. Tell us how's life in New York?"  
  
"Dull."  
  
"How's your English these days?"  
  
"Better."  
  
"How's the social life? Met any of those hot American actresses yet?" The group was taking turns attempting to interrogate Doumyouji. It almost goes without saying, that they were also all failing miserably.  
  
Doumyouji only shrugged woodenly, "Money grubbing harpies with plastic surgery."  
  
"Well, at least with Shigeru you have no fears of that." Akira teased.  
  
"No."  
  
Akira rolled his eyes expressively at Soujiro. Somehow they just couldn't seem to keep the conversational ball going. And Doumyouji was refusing to drink enough for them to even begin to hope that the alcohol would loosen him up.  
  
After an hour of these utterly failed attempts to engage Doumyouji in a real conversation -- Tsukasa was stubbornly dodging all verbal thrusts, with the persistent stubbornness reminiscent of a pit-bull terrier that only he could manifest-- the four friends were about to give up.  
  
Soujiro turned to Rui and began a mostly one-sided conversation involving the ridiculous way some gaijin his family was entertaining had screwed up the tea ceremony.  
  
Sakurako sulked and stared longingly at the magnificently displayed liquor cabinet. Occasionally, she'd stare at Tsukasa instead, as if trying to decide if she should be longing for him too.  
  
Akira finally remembered the package that Shigeru had given him -- Tsukushi's engagement present for Tsukasa. Sheepishly, he withdrew the flat box from a pocket, and smoothing out the fancy wrapping paper, presented it to Tsukasa. He'd hoped to avoid uttering the name Makino in Tsukasa's presence, but now, he found he had no choice.  
  
"Here," he held out the small gift, "Umm.. . I forgot to give this to you before, It's. . . ah. . ."  
  
"It's from Tsukushi." Rui looked over and spoke bluntly.  
  
"Damn it," Soujiro murmured almost inaudibly, as if to himself, "She didn't tell me about that." Rui turned back to Soujiro, and in what Soujiro could have sworn was a smug undertone, informed him, "She told me."  
  
"Oh, don't you just think you're so special now." Soujiro sneered halfheartedly. Most of his attention was devoted to Tsukasa, who was just sitting there, slowly turning the unexpected gift over and over in his hands. Once again, it felt like a thundercloud was gathering above their heads. You could almost smell the ozone.  
  
"Aren't you going to open it?" Sakurako spoke up unexpectedly, "Stop being such a damn pansy."  
  
"Sakurako!" Akira reprimanded sharply. Though, it has to be mentioned, at heart he was glad someone had come out and said it. Tsukasa was being an utter wimp. Living in frigid denial. It was fucking pathetic.  
  
Finally, Tsukasa reacted. "Later." Was all he said, as he tucked the still- unopened package into his own pocket.  
  
Rui rolled his eyes in disappointment.  
  
"What was it?" Soujiro hissed.  
  
"Go ask her yourself." Rui murmured back, equally quietly.  
  
"Good idea." Soujiro grinned, "I should see how that paper is coming anyway."  
  
Rui merely blinked, and went back to his drink.  
  
"Yeah, fuck you too." Soujiro muttered good naturedly, glad that Tsukasa hadn't seemed to notice their little exchange. More loudly he announced to the room in general, "I'll be back in a bit." Standing, he made his way out of the den, and down the hall to the room in which Tsukushi had ensconced herself.  
  
As the door shut behind Soujiro. Rui shook his head, "It's getting late, I think it's time for me to go home."  
  
"You're not staying?" Akira inquired.  
  
"Nah." Rui stretched, "My bed is much more comfortable that the ones you've got here."  
  
"I bet Soujiro would disagree with that appraisal." Sakurako teased, "But then, I guess when the bed comes fully equipped. . ."  
  
She swallowed the words she'd been about to say, when she saw the almost imperceptible shake of Rui's head, and worse, the glimmer of almost- comprehension in Tsukasa's eyes, as he turned to look her way. "Shit." She muttered. "Go home Rui."  
  
"That was the plan." Rui replied, as imperturbable as ever.  
  
"Hey," Sakurako brightened, as she thought for a second, "Want some company?"  
  
"No thanks." Rui shrugged on his jacket, "'Night Akira. Tsukasa. Sakurako"  
  
"Damn it." Sakurako slumped back down in her chair, "That boy's impossible."  
  
Akira rolled his eyes, "Give it up Sakurako. He's not going to sleep with you either. You're engaged."  
  
"So?" she grumbled petulantly. "That wouldn't stop you, would it?"  
  
Akira chose to ignore her, and turned back to his other guest. "Are you staying here tonight? We've got plenty of space."  
  
Tsukasa hesitated, He didn't really want to stay here. It hadn't been that pleasant an evening. Why would he want to prolong his time here? But, then he thought of the Doumyouji mansion, and of his mother who would undoubtedly be presiding there, like some malicious spider in the center of its web. He never felt comfortable alone there anyway. What could it hurt to sleep here?  
  
"I'll stay." He decided, grudgingly.  
  
"Good." Akira bustled off, trying to figure out which room to give to his guest. It'd have to be some place far from Soujiro and Tsukushi if he didn't want them to bump into each other. But not far enough from him that Doumyouji would feel slighted. Hmmm..  
  
"Want company?" Sakurako looked over at Doumyouji and purred seductively. "We could really warm up the bed here."  
  
"No." Was Doumyouji's only curt reply, and with that, he got up to go find where Akira had wandered off to.  
  
------  
  
Tsukushi hardly looked up as the door clicked softly shut behind Soujiro. She was lying on her stomach across the wide bed, her head propped up on one arm, staring intently at the lines of text marching across the screen of Soujiro's laptop. Every few seconds, she'd give the computer a frustrated glare as one hand darted out to type a few more lines.  
  
Quietly, so as not to disturb Tsukushi's concentration, Soujiro paced over to the bad, and, kneeling down over the prone girl, began to massage her tense shoulders.  
  
"How's the paper coming?"  
  
"Ugh." Tsukushi sighed, "I hate history! I can't get this stupid thing to flow!"  
  
Soujiro looked over at the page count, and shook his head in disbelief. She was up to 16 pages already, on what was supposed to be a 10 page assignment. It was sadly obvious that she was transferring stress from some other source into an excessive zeal for this assignment. She really shouldn't try to get more work done in this state. But that was ok. Soujiro could think of much better things to do with their time than watch Tsukushi typing away. . . .But first. . . Soujiro paused in his attentions to Tsukushi's shoulders.  
  
"What did you give Tsukasa?" He could feel the sudden tenseness in her muscles as he asked the question. Tsukushi was preparing to avoid the question.  
  
". . . Nothing. . ." She protested weakly.  
  
"Don't lie to me," Soujiro sighed wearily and sat back on the bed, "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you tell Rui?" He was hurt, though he wouldn't let it show how much. Tsukasa's return was causing an upsurge in old tensions, old secrets, and all the fractious discordances that had once plagued them all. Tsukushi had been strangely quiet since Shigeru's call that fateful afternoon several weeks ago. Soujiro worried that he was slowly losing Tsukushi to her memories of what she'd once had, the person who she'd once been. He didn't know what to do about it, how to prevent that slippage, or even, how to convince himself that she wasn't going to leave him, now that he'd finally gotten her to believe in his sincerity.  
  
Tsukushi rolled over to face him. It would have been easier for her to avert her gaze and lie to him again, but she could hear the uncertain hurt in his tone. So she bit her lip, and told the truth. "I. . gave him the same thing I gave Shigeru. . . I . . We have to stop pretending the other doesn't exist. . . I thought maybe. . . It would be ok if we all met at the amusement park. . . and maybe. . he wouldn't be so cruel to Shigeru. You know. If I were there? . . oh damn." Tsukushi trailed off uncertainly. ". . Maybe it was a stupid idea, after all." Her face crumpled as she fought back tears. "He probably still hates me."  
  
"Tsukushi." Damn. Soujiro hated seeing her cry. Gently, he reached out to stroke her cheek. "It's a beautiful idea." Naïve perhaps, but that was, after all, part of Tsukushi's charm. "Trust me. He doesn't hate you." And that's what I'm afraid of.  
  
Tsukushi sniffled, and tried to wipe her eyes. She hated being such an emotional sap. "I'm sorry, I think I'm just tired," she apologized hastily, "It's been a long day. . ." She probably would have kept on babbling, had not Soujiro eased himself down next to her and stifled her protests with a kiss. Really, it was the best way to shut her up. His eyes sparkled mischievously as a slow flush crept along her cheeks and she blinked in surprise. Normally, she'd push him away at this point, gasping in indignation and embarrassment, only to pull him back for more. This time however, her mind was not really here in the present, where it should be. Soujiro could see it in her eyes that she was caught up in the past once more. She probably wasn't even seeing him, he thought with a trace of bitterness. No, it was undoubtedly Tsukasa's face that danced before her eyes now.  
  
"Tsukushi." Soujiro commanded sternly, pulling back a little, "Look at me. The past is dead. The bast you can do is live for today. Please, snap out of it." I refuse to lose you to stale regrets I spent all winter pulling you out of. He watched with relief as her eyes refocused on him. "Ah.. . That's better. . . Now," he continued, more seductively, "Where were we?"  
  
"Writing a history paper!" Tsukushi blurted, made uncomfortable, as ever, by the waves of masculinity rolling off the perfect specimen beside her.  
  
"I don't think so." Soujiro grinned lazily, now. Here was a game he knew how to play -- something that would distract them both from the specter of Tsukasa looming over their brief idyll. He reached one long arm over to grab the laptop, as Tsukushi made vague protestations and scooted closer to the computer: trying to rescue it before the inevitable occurred.  
  
She was too late, of course. She was always too late in this game. Soujiro lunged smoothly for the computer, snapping it shut and knocking it out of Tsukushi's reach in one practiced move. This lunge also gave him the extremely advantageous position of having Tsukushi now trapped beneath him. Right where he wanted her. Tsukushi yelped loudly as he let some of his weight press down upon her.  
  
Tsukushi was already blushing again as Soujiro leaned over her, "Too much studying will make that cute little head of yours implode. And that'd be such a shame." He murmured, bending closer until their lips were mere millimeters apart. It was Tsukushi who broke first and closed the remaining distance, finally allowing herself to lose herself for a while in the pure sensual pleasure provided by Soujiro's lips and tongue. . . and by that stealthy hand, gliding steadily along her waist, to snag on the hem of her shirt? Irately, she swatted the offending limb away. Undiscouraged, Soujiro merely grabbed her hand and placing it firmly under his, guided it where he wanted to go. He could see the heat of illicit pleasure rising in her cheeks as he used her own hand to lazily caress the contours of her breast. Still, she couldn't deny that it was pleasurable, and it wasn't like they'd never explored this particular territory before. Tsukushi made no more token protests, as Soujiro moved to unbutton her shirt and unhook her bra. The evil gleam in his eye as his lips trailed down her jaw to the hollow of her throat always sent shivers down her spine.  
  
It hadn't been that long ago that the idea of engaging in such blatantly sexual activities would have horrified Tsukushi. And even now, she was still not entirely comfortable with her actions. .. But, how could she refuse, when Soujiro made everything seem so natural .. . and when it all felt so good? She couldn't help but utter a surprised gasp, however, as his teeth nipped gently at a sensitive nipple, sending a shockwave of pain and pleasure deep into her belly.  
  
Soujiro was enjoying himself immensely, now. Tsukushi might still be unwilling to admit that anything to do with their lower halves existed. But he'd get there eventually. He hoped. If only he didn't lose her to her damned memories first. He'd be damned if all his hard work in softening Tsukushi up went to some other bastard's advantage. Soujiro wasn't used to the sudden surge of jealousy he felt; the way his hand curved possessively along Tsukushi's pale skin. Still, it couldn't be helped. No one else had ever made him feel this way; made him feel that their every touch, their every caress was something to be treasured and savoured, not just thrown away in the cold light of day. With this thought in mind, he pulled away from Tsukushi once more, just barely catching her soft sigh of regret as he ceased his attentions. Looking down, Soujiro made himself memorize the flush in her cheek, the heat in her eye, and every soft curve and bony rib of the girl below him. All of it, territory only he had ever explored -- and what a heady feeling that was. . .  
  
----  
  
Tsukasa hurried down the hall, trying to catch up with Akira.  
  
"Hey," he shouted irately, "Don't leave me alone with that drunk succubus- wannabe!"  
  
But Akira was lost in his own head, still trying to plan how could house Tsukasa and Soujiro and Tsukushi overnight without allowing the one to encounter the other. Shit. He knew he shouldn't have invited Tsukasa. to stay. Still, it had been the polite thing to do, and his host-instinct had just kicked in. Arghh. This was so unfair . why couldn't his friends be simple like him?  
  
Akira froze suddenly, as he heard a distinct yelp. That came from Soujiro's room. Shit. Hadn't he told Tsukushi to be quiet? Soujiro must be fooling around again. Trying to be casual, Akira glanced back to where Tsukasa had frozen in midstride. So much for hoping he hadn't heard Tsukushi. .. Well, he could try to pass it off as a mouse squeaking? Maybe a bird? Pretend that there had been no sound? Yeah that's it. Tsukasa was obviously hearing things. There was no short, unattractively skinny girl in Soujiro's room. Nope, couldn't possibly be. The idea was totally ridiculous. .  
  
"Hey Tsukasa! What're you standing around like that for? Your room's this way!" Akira shouted, as if nothing had happened.  
  
Tsukasa started, as a look of sudden comprehension dawned across his face. In a few quick strides, he'd reached Akira, and with one vehement shove, pinned the shorter boy to the wall. Akira gasped in dismay, as he read the terrible haunted look in Tsukasa's eye.  
  
"She's here. Isn't she?" Roughly, he shook Akira, daring him to deny it, "She's been here the whole time. . . And you didn't tell me?" The pained disbelief broke through each ragged word, like pus seeping from an infected sore. The worst thing was, however, not the fact that Akira hadn't told him that Tsukushi was here, but that Tsukasa hadn't been able to sense her presence less than fifty feet away from him, the whole evening. He, who used to be able to pinpoint her exactly, no matter how far from him she fled, or how many people stood between them, he might as well be blind now. His sixth sense was gone, and to him, it was a loss almost as terrible as the loss of Tsukushi herself had been. And now he was lost-- for she had been his beacon and his anchor for so long, even during the long dark isolated months in New York when he tried to refute her with ever fiber of his being -- so that he no longer knew just who he was, or where it was he was headed without her.  
  
"Tsukasa. . . " Akira began soothingly, "Now just calm down. If you'd've asked, we would have told you she was here. Makino's just been studying all evening. She just didn't want to be disturbed." Come on, he pled silently, believe me. Don't ask, just don't ask what they're doing in there now. I can guess, and I bet you can too. But you can't handle it so please, please don't ask.  
  
Well, he got part of his wish. Tsukasa didn't ask. In fact, he didn't say a word, but his face was shadowed as he stared at the floor, seemingly lost in thought. Who was he now? Was he the heir to the Doumyouji corporation? A successful businessman with a lovely fiancée, and a bright future? Was he the unfeeling corporate robot he'd made himself for the past few months, or was he the passionate man, who fought for his beliefs, and never gave up? He didn't know anymore, and what was, to him even worse, he was beginning to lose the certainty of what it was he was fighting for. What it was he believed in. Depression had eroded his soul, leaving him empty -- so empty. If only someone would tell him how he should feel?  
  
It was more likely a bizarre form of self-torture , than a hope of finding an answer to his personal pain, that made him push himself abruptly away from Akira, and head back towards that closed door.  
  
"Tsukasa! Wait!" Akira called out impotently. As expected, Tsukasa ignored him, and Akira was left to slump wearily down the wall to sit on the hall floor. From here, he could hear every word that floated out of the room. As to whether or not that was a good thing, who was to say? He certainly didn't know.  
  
------  
  
Tsukushi, blissfully unaware of the hand reaching for the doorknob outside, stretched up one petite hand to wrap around Soujiro's neck and pull him back down. Grinning, he was about to comply, when the door clicked open. Soujiro hardly skipped a beat; he assumed the unseen intruder was Akira, and acted accordingly.  
  
"Hey Akira. get out! Can't you see we're busy?" Being walked in on was hardly anything new to Soujiro. In their youth, when Soujiro and Akira had both first started experimenting with girls, the two boys had often shared a room for entertaining their conquests. Later on, when Tsukasa had taken to throwing weeklong parties on his yacht, Soujiro had frequently been interrupted half-way through the undressing of some attractive female, or occasionally even in mid-thrust, by a rampaging Tsukasa -- who, deprived as he was of female companionship, would take to tearing around the ship full of crazy ideas that he forced his friends to participate in. Back then, often as not, Soujiro would sigh, grab a robe, and indulge his mercurial friend, leaving behind him an embarrassed female, mortified to have been seen in flagrante, and even more mortified to have been abandoned without a second look by the handsome playboy.  
  
But that was long ago. And those girls were not Tsukushi.  
  
Now, Tsukushi's eyes flicked over Soujiro's shoulder to the figure silently filling the open doorway. Her eyes widened and she tensed under Soujiro.  
  
"Shit." Soujiro murmured, as the meaning of her wild eyes sank in, "That's not Akira, is it?"  
  
Tsukushi was frozen in place, but Soujiro was not. Action was needed. Smoothly, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, pulling Tsukushi with him, Shaking with traumatized shame and embarrassment, she buried her flaming face in his chest as she frantically rebuttoned her shirt. Soujiro wrapped one arm tightly around her back, while the other reassuringly stroked her hair, as he turned around to confront Tsukasa.  
  
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He began angrily, "You don't just walk in on people and Stand there! Why are you still there?"  
  
"What are you doing to Tsukushi?" Doumyouji's voice was flat and hard. He couldn't get the image out of his mind -- the sight he'd seen as he opened the door: Tsukushi's pale skin peeking out from under Soujiro's dexterous hands; the open shirt; the swollen lips; the hungry look in her eye. Hunger for someone other than him. And this time, it was real. No one could deny the truth of what he'd just seen.  
  
Soujiro sighed in exasperation, Tsukasa still hadn't changed that much. "My Girlfriend and I." He stated pointedly, ignoring Tsukasa's growing glower. "Were enjoying a private moment. . if you don't mind. I think we'd like to go back to it. Please leave." Interruptions were very frustrating. He didn't care who it was. He'd had plans for this evening-- and they didn't involve Tsukasa, or anyone else for that matter, getting between him and Tsukushi.  
  
"What do you mean? . . girlfriend?" Tsukasa had seen it, he knew it, but he couldn't accept it. He'd never accept it. . Why else had he left, but to avoid seeing something like this? He should have known, with his luck, that it was unavoidable.  
  
Tsukushi couldn't take any more. It was bad enough being walked in on by Doumyouji, but to have him standing there, interrogating them? It was just too much. She felt a burning anger flaring up inside, and she finally raised her heated face from Soujiro's chest.  
  
"You. . ." She began, her voice beginning in an uncertain quaver, but then gaining steadily in certainty, volume, and righteous anger, ". . You fucking coward! You have no right to stand there and judge us! Not when you were the one to run away! Five months and not one word! Not one single word from you! You may as well have been dead! That hurt, you asshole! And now you stand there like you have every right. But you're wrong. .. you're so wrong. . ." As quickly as it had come, her anger burned itself to ashes, and she continued more calmly, "Do you have any idea how many times I tried to call you? But you never answered. You're such a coward. I learned that running away was no solution, why didn't you? . . "  
  
Doumyouji stared stricken at Tsukushi, and the now-silent boy who held her tightly. Denial rampaged through his brain, but got him nowhere. "You never called me. I would have known." Was the best he managed.  
  
"I did." Tsukushi managed a bitter laugh, "Well, Rui did, and if you'd ever once listened to him instead of hanging up, he'd have handed the phone to me.. . .Once a week, we called. You know. We had a whole ritual about it. But it really was too much to hope for, wasn't it. . that'd you'd listen?" Damn it, she was starting to cry again. This sucked. She turned back around to the comfort of Soujiro's embrace, with a few final words, "Please, just leave us alone."  
  
And this time, he went.  
  
"It never gets any easier." Tsukushi remarked at last, mumbling into Soujiro's shoulder. "I keep telling myself, it has to hurt less. But it never does."  
  
"I know," Soujiro murmured back. The only way not to be hurt, was not to care. There was no way Tsukushi could manage that trick -- not the girl who felt every one's pain. Tsukasa was unhappy, and that made her unhappy. But all she could do was lash out at him, and continue the vicious cycle until someone broke.  
  
It was just a bad situation all 'round.  
  
After a while, Tsukushi roused herself, "I'm going to go get some tea. I'll be back in a bit."  
  
Reluctantly Soujiro released her. She was going off to snivel by herself, and she didn't want him to see. He supposed he should let her go for a little while before he went and fetched her back. . .  
  
-------  
  
In the kitchen, Tsukushi sipped carefully at her mug of scalding tea, trying to empty her mind; just focus on the steam rising from the water, let everything dissolve, like the vapor into air. .. . For a while, she succeeded, and when she next looked up, Akira was sitting across from her, looking tired.  
  
"Hey." Tsukushi greeted her host, "Why aren't you asleep with everyone else?"  
  
"No one's asleep." Akira grunted. "With Tsukasa back, this place is a madhouse. Have you seen Sakurako today? Good lord, She's latching on to anything male. And Tsukasa? The man's spaced out of it completely. I don't know what world he's living in, but it certainly isn't this one."  
  
Tsukushi shook her head in sympathy, Akira's job as host was truly a thankless one. She decided a change of subject was in order, "How's things with you and Yuki? I haven't seen her around here much recently?"  
  
She instantly knew she'd made a tactical error, as Akira's usually open face suddenly became carefully neutral. "Fine. You know," he shrugged, "the usual."  
  
Tsukushi felt a stab of concern for her friend, and a bolt of sudden intuition hit her, "You're dumping her, aren't you? You jerk." If she hadn't already been so tired, her glare could have burnt holes straight through his skull.  
  
Akira gave an elaborate shrug. He'd been getting bored with his relationship for a while now. Yuki was sweet and all, but her youthful charm was wearing thin, and he'd found his attention starting to wander once again, as more mature women caught his eye. He hadn't done anything yet, but he'd been considering it, and he'd begun the delicate process of letting Yuki go gently. He wasn't a bad man, and he'd do his best not to hurt her, but he wasn't in love with her anymore. Therefore, it was time to move on.  
  
"Why?" Tsukushi muttered the dismayed question into her cooling tea..  
  
"Tsukushi. . " Akira began placatingly. Then, abruptly he changed his mind. Why should he apologize? It was his life. More harshly he continued, "Look Tsukushi, it's like this. In a few months, I'm going away to college. My father wants me to go to school in the US. So even if we didn't break up now, we would then. I'm not interested in a long distance relationship. Really there's just no point. And why prolong the misery? It's not like we'd have a future. Come on! We're in high school now! High school! No relationship that's begun in fucking high school can last. Life doesn't work like that. People change. We're kids now -- we're playing around. But soon, we'll grow up; we'll take on our adult responsibilities. It won't be the same. We won't be the same. You know that, as well as I do, that nothing lasts. Life is meant to be enjoyed while you can, but when you're done with a phase, it's best to finish it quickly, so you can move on.  
  
"Is that all Yuki is? A phase?" Tsukushi demanded, shocked by Akira's philosophy. She'd never thought he was that insensitive before. Now she was beginning to wonder if she was wrong.  
  
"That's not quite what I meant." Akira sighed. He didn't want to get into an argument right now. He was just too tired for that. "Listen, why don't you go ask Soujiro. He knows what I'm talking about. Maybe he can explain it better." With these words, he climbed to his feet and left.  
  
Tsukushi stared into her now-cold tea. Was Akira right? Was all this just a transient phase? It could be. . . After all, how many times had she fallen in love now? Three. But she didn't want life to be like that. She wanted the good things to last -- she wanted love to stay; else, it couldn't possibly be True love. Now, she was left to wonder if she was just a phase Soujiro was going through, too? An experiment he was conducting in the realm of serious relationships? And if so, when would he grow bored like Akira, and leave her for more familiar territory? And how much would that hurt her, then? A slow trickle of tears wound its way down her cheeks, to drip steadily into her unfinished cup. She was afraid to ask the question, and even more terrified of the answer. She'd come to depend on the bright- eyed playboy far too much in the past few months, much more than she should have. If he shared Akira's philosophy, then all she was doing now was setting herself up for a serious fall. She had to remind herself that all men were jerks. She had to distance herself again, before it was too late.  
  
But, oh. She didn't want to. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with her boyfriend and be held. And now, that might not be in her best long term interests. She had to look out for herself, the weed. Because, in the end, you really couldn't rely on anyone else. That, more than anything else that had happened, was why she sat alone in the kitchen, sniveling into her cold and salty tea, until eventually she slumped asleep at the table.  
  
Some while later, Soujiro, having washed, and gotten himself ready for bed, wandered into the kitchen looking for Tsukushi.  
  
It wasn't hard to read the misery in Tsukushi's sleeping face, and Soujiro reached out to trace the faint tear-trails on her cheeks. He sighed, wondering if she was crying for Tsukasa again.  
  
At the touch of his fingertips, Tsukushi stirred, and blinking awake quickly rearranged her face into a neutral mask.  
  
"Come to bed." Soujiro urged. "It's late, and you're getting up early tomorrow to meet Shigeru."  
  
"Mmmm. . " Tsukushi mumbled in agreement, and stumbled to her feet, cringing at the sudden headache that assaulted her. Owie, she hadn't had a stress headache like this in a long time. Still, she stubbornly refused Soujiro's offered hand and staggered off down the hall on her own. Soujiro trailed along behind, unable to decipher her suddenly distant behavior. Not knowing anything of Akira's words, he decided to blame it all on Tsukasa. Tsukushi was probably still upset about having been walked in on. That must be it. Soujiro shrugged; that wasn't a problem he could fix. He'd just have to hope she got over it on her own.  
  
It was unfortunate that he misunderstood the real cause of her withdrawal. And it was a mistake of the type liable to have consequences: as indeed, all mistakes have consequences, some more unpleasant than others.  
  
Back in their room, Tsukushi got ready for bed, while Soujiro dozed off. When Tsukushi finally settled into bed, Soujiro tried to pull her into their usual cozy sleeping position, but Tsukushi balked again, leaving Soujiro alone, confused and unhappy, on his side of the bed.  
  
By the time Soujiro woke in the morning, Tsukushi had already left.  
  
to be continued  
ooof. Long chapter. I think it's a bit disjointed. Confusing as to what's really going on. A bit like my life right now. Man my head hurts. As they say, all will become clear. . eventually. I hope. 


	9. daylight brings sanity

Today's curdled's bitch corner goes at the top: and here it is! . . . Current issue of HYD and still No sex!! Goddamnit! How many more issues is it going to take? Ok, that wasn't the bitch corner I was going to write, but man, I was pissed (and the real bitch corner was likely to have alienated half the hyd fandom, anyway). Right, back to the story. And oh yeah. I'm going to include a lyric today, just for formatting fun.

__

Through it all

My mind still wanders

To the one who touched my soul

Though her road leads away

She's still my

True love

Soujiro tossed and turned in the empty bed. He hadn't slept well last night. How could he, knowing that the girl he loved was shutting him out and pushing him away from her, though physically she lay mere inches away. All he had wanted to do as snuggle up next to her and warm himself with the heat of her heart, and share his with her. But, she pushed him away, and Soujiro's sleep was thus disturbed. 

Tsukushi had risen early to go meet Shigeru at the amusement park, but Soujiro had fallen into a brief spell of deep sleep, and had not woken as she slipped quietly out of bed, dressed, and left the house.

When Soujiro did wake again, her side of the bed was cold , and he could not fall back asleep, yet still he was unwilling to rise to meet the day. At least here in bed he only had his own problems to focus on, and not those of any of his friends. For a while he shifted restlessly, wondering how to bridge the distance that had so recently sprung up between Tsukushi and himself, but his solitude was short lived and he was unable to find a solution.

Soujiro's ears pricked up as the door clicked open and slow footsteps crossed the floor. Involuntarily, his eyes snapped open in surprise when Tsukasa sat down heavily on the bed next to him. Soujiro struggled to pull himself to a sitting position, a more defensible angle from which to regard the melancholy intruder.

Tsukasa just sat there, on the edge of the bed, hunched over, with his elbows resting on his knees, and his hands clasped around . .. something. .. Soujiro couldn't quite see what, obscured as the object was, by the size of Tsukasa's hands.

Soujiro finally succeeded in pulling himself upright. His first instinct, now was to demand why Tsukasa had barged in to his room this time. Only the painfully confused look on Doumyouji's face stopped him, and instead, he paused halfway between one interrogative grunt and another. And, still Doumyouji sat there, staring at whatever it was he held in his hands.

At last Soujiro gave up, and stated the obvious. "Tsukushi's not here."

"I know." Doumyouji didn't even turn to look at the other boy, "I saw her leave. . ."

"Oh." Soujiro said stupidly. Well then, why was Tsukasa here now? He didn't seem to want to fight, but Soujiro was at a loss for what else Doumyouji's purpose could be. However, he was not to dwell in mystery much longer, for Doumyouji spoke again, in pained tones.

"What is this? You must know, what it means." And he finally showed Soujiro what he held between his hands. It was of course, the engagement present from Tsukushi.

"Ah. . ." Soujiro repeated. He wasn't sure if he wanted Tsukasa to know. A reconciliation of the two might not, after all, be in his own best interests. But Tsukushi would kill him if she found out he lied, and really, he didn't have the heart to stare at the naked pain in Tsukasa's face without offering up a straight answer. So, he sighed, and took the box from Tsukasa's nerveless fingers. "Have you opened it?"

"Yes. But I don't understand. There was no note." Doumyouji was almost pleading. Furious that he had to beg the man he considered his rival for an explanation, ashamed that he had to ask at all. Wondering if he could ever be forgiven for his behavior. Wondering if he could ever forgive their actions.

"It's simple, really. Tsukushi and Shigeru went off to the amusement park today for a "girl's day out" or some such nonsense. It's basically an excuse for them to ride the rollercoasters until they're nauseous and then eat junk food until they wish they had thrown up to begin with."

"That doesn't explain. . ."

"Oh yes it does." Soujiro shot back moodily, "It's obvious, she wants you to join them. What are you still doing here? Go, They'll be hurt if you don't."

"What should I care. I never asked for any of this." Doumyouji muttered sullenly, more to himself than to the other boy.

"Don't you want to see them?" Soujiro persisted, amazed and irritated at Doumyouji's stubborn cowardice. "They want to see you."

"Not after last night."

"Right." Soujiro sneered, "And you think I'm happy with you for ruining what could have been a very fulfilling evening? You have no idea how pissed off I am at you right now. You asshole. But you're still here talking to me, and I'm talking to you. And even civilly at that, despite your rudeness. On the other hand, you're still such a wimp where girls are concerned. Too strong: too weak: too hot: too cold. Isn't it time you learned moderation? Just go to the fucking park and leave me the hell alone."

Doumyouji sat in silence for a few more minutes, digesting Soujiro's rant. Somehow, Soujiro's feelings just hadn't occurred to him when he found himself pacing the halls this morning. No one else was around, and some sort of old instinct had led him to Soujiro-- a friend whose insight used to serve him well on many occasions. It was idiotic of him to forget that if Makino was angry at him for walking in on her, than so too might be the one she was with. But somehow he'd managed to distance Soujiro from that nightmare mental picture that still flashed behind his eyes, of His once-pure girl disporting herself with a pro. Finally, he blinked as if a thought had just occurred to him.

"How long?. . ."

"Have we been dating?" Soujiro easily read Tsukasa's mind and cut off the rest of thought, "About a month."

"A month. . . " If I'd come back sooner, if I hadn't left, would things be different now? Tsukasa wasn't sure he wanted to know. . .

"Yeah. She's stubborn all right, is Tsukushi. But man, the effort was worth it." Soujiro couldn't help gloating a little, just a bit of a power play to remind Tsukasa who the dominant male here was. Still, he made sure to watch Tsukasa's fists with a wary eye. "Look," he finished off, more reasonably, "Are you going, or not? I'm not taking the blame for it if you don't show and she comes home crying again."

"Umm." Tsukasa only gave a noncommittal grunt as he climbed to his feet with a considering look settling his melancholy features into an even grimmer cast. "She's got us all wrapped around her little finger doesn't she? You, Rui, even I can't escape. We're all caught in the same web. I should hate you for taking her from me. . . But I've been coming to realize that you're not to blame. None of us are. It's just one of life's cruel jokes, isn't it?"

Soujiro shrugged, "You said it, not me. I happen to like being wrapped around her. She's cuddly." He was being deliberately provocative again. "Really, Tsukasa, don't you think it's time you moved on? You locked your feelings into stasis the whole time you were gone, didn't you? You haven't changed at all. . . but maybe it's time you freed yourself from this so-called web of Tsukushi? You can't have her back. I won't let you hurt her anymore. Go and be friends with her, and stop trying to drag the rest of us all down into your own personal hell. Your. Relationship. Is. Over."

"And how do you think you'd stop me, if she wanted me back?" Tsukasa challenged.

Soujiro just shrugged in reply, "I'd find a way. I don't have any other choice." And I pray everyday, that she's smart enough not to fall back into that trap. He knew that Tsukushi had dumped Tsukasa not because she didn't love him, not because she didn't want him, but because she just couldn't take him anymore. Tsukasa was overwhelming in his presence, searing in the pain he could, and had, caused her. But all that meant, was that Tsukushi was miserable in her love. She had still been miserable when Tsukasa left too. Soujiro had made her feel better, given her a kind of peace, made her feel comforted and needed, and maybe that's why she came to love him too. For Soujiro felt, not that he had replaced Tsukasa in Tsukushi's heart, but that he had joined him there, in an unstable equilibrium.

"You really mean that don't you?" Tsukasa sounded resigned.

"Yeah. . ." Soujiro grimaced.

Tsukasa stared intently at his friend, as if seeing him for the first time. "Who are you, Nishikado Soujiro?" You're not the person you used to be, not the man I thought you were. Doumyouji felt he didn't really know the other boy; wondered if he ever really had at all.

"What do you mean, 'who am I?' You grew up with me, you idiot. Remember?" Soujiro tried to tease Tsukasa lightly, and defuse the gloomy mood, but he failed. Tsukasa continued to eye him speculatively, as one eyes an arch-rival before a duel. 

Recognizing the game, Soujiro assumed a confidence he didn't feel, and stared Tsukasa down, until, at last, the curly-haired boy rose to leave.

After Doumyouji finally left, Soujiro let out a long gusty sigh. This could get ugly. How many days until Tsukasa went back to New York? Whenever it was, it wouldn't be soon enough for him. 

If only Tsukasa would just get a grip and content himself with his fiancée, life would be so much simpler.

__

Future calls to me

To take me away from things

I don't want to leave behind

Like I'm slipping away

I can't hold on.

-------

Tsukasa made his way to amusement ark. He hadn't really made the conscious decision to come here, but his feet had led him, and here he was. It was early in the season, and the crowds were still thin, but still, the park was full of the sounds of cheer. Laughing couples, giggling girls, and shrieking kids. Such a display of proletarian amusements. Junk food, stupid games, dizzying rides. . . here there was little refinement or grace, but neither was there any of the masquerade that accompanied more upper-class entertainments. Here in the park, real emotions were allowed full reign, and no one had time for politicking or back-stabbing. Even Doumyouji could feel a loosening in his soul, as he strode, unnoticed, among the booths and rides, seeking out two familiar females.

Doumyouji lost his courage when at last he did find Tsukushi and Shigeru coming off of one of the looping roller coasters. Stepping quickly back in the shadows, he silently observed the two. .. pretending to himself, that he was just waiting for the right moment to intrude; pretending that he really was going to go up to them, any second now.. .. but Doumyouji watched their smiles, heard their conversation, and knew, with a sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, that the second they saw him, their faces would fall, their laughter would vanish. . . Tsukushi's eyes would lose their luster, and Shigeru's vibrant animation would lock itself away. .. . Thinking all this. Almost living it behind his eyes, Tsukasa remained hidden.

"Ugh," Shigeru was holding her stomach, though her face wore a wide grin, "I think my insides are still spinning without me."

"Yeah." Tsukushi agreed. "That was great, I thought on that last loop that my heart was going to stop"

"Let's do it again!" Shigeru was ready to bound off, but Tsukushi forestalled her.

"Can we get some food first? I didn't have breakfast, and I'm starving."

"Sure," Shigeru looked around, "Let's see, cotton candy sound good? Or how about ice cream!"

"I can't eat that!" Tsukushi protested, "I'll get fat!"

"No way." Shigeru laughed, and heedless of Tsukushi's protestations, stopped at the closest booth to pick up some fried dough. "Yum. . ." Even Tsukushi couldn't resist the greasy sugary temptation, and soon joined her friend in munching away happily. 

Well, relatively happily, anyway. The two girls had agreed when they met, not to discuss Shigeru's engagement, or Tsukasa. Neither wanted to ruin the mood of the day. Tsukushi hadn't even told Shigeru of her oblique invitation to Tsukasa. And now, much as she wanted to tell her friend, she found she couldn't open her mouth to say the words, any more than she could have told Shigeru about how Tsukasa had found her and Soujiro last night. Shigeru too, had a secret, and there was no way in hell she was going to tell Tsukushi about her encounter with Amon. 

What a pair they were, sitting in the park, eating junk food, ogling cute guys -- though none so cute as theirs, and fairly bursting on the insides from secrets. There were so many things they wanted to tell the other, pains that ate at them, and demanded release -- but for the sake of their fragile illusion, these were pressures that they refused to ease. 

As the day progressed, Tsukushi grew increasingly agitated, looking over her shoulder frequently, as if expecting a tall figure that never came. Her laughter came less easily, and sounded more forced. And bit by bit, her smiles fell. She'd really thought he'd come. Really thought that if she made the effort to extend an olive branch, he'd forgive her, at least a little. Why couldn't they just be friends? Why did he always have to be so difficult? And what of Shigeru? Was it really too much to ask that Tsukasa at least try to be civil to the poor girl, even if he didn't love her? She too was making such an effort, trying to pretend that she wasn't scared and lonely on the inside, that she wasn't angry. . . and that she wasn't envious of the way Tsukushi got all the guys, with so little effort or self-awareness.

Unbeknownst to the two girls, Tsukasa was right behind them, the whole day. He knew now, that he was being a coward, but he couldn't help himself. He slunk through shadows and made himself invisible in crowds -- no mean feat when one's figure is as imposing as his was-- and above all he watched, and listened. The girls' chatter was inane at times, but even he could hear the undercurrent of deep emotions that fueled their friendship. There was a warmth there, a bond like the one he had used to share with the F3, a promise to share in each other's pain, to provide a foil to life's miseries, and a distraction from its cruelty. 

Tsukasa couldn't help feeling more than a few twinges of guilt as he lurked and listened. Shigeru really wasn't that bad. She couldn't be that bad a person if Tsukushi liked her. She was sweet, it was true, but also a bit unconsciously selfish, in the way that only-children often were. She as of course, also given to manic attacks and to excessive displays of emotion. But none of that was the killer. No, that had always lain in the fact that she wasn't Tsukushi, and could never be. Now, Tsukasa could read in the set of her shoulders the unhappiness that lay beneath her bubbly exterior. And it was all his fault. If he could have, Doumyouji might have slunk off like a whipped dog, with his tail between his legs. But that was not his way, and instead he replaced his guilt with a vague unfocused anger, that gnawed at his belly and sent shivers of ice up his spine. He didn't really deserve any of them -- any of his friends. He was a terrible person, he knew. He always had been, and he'd driven them all away; caused his friends to shun him, and left both the woman he loved, and the women who loved him, with an unending pain. Really, it was best for him to go. Back to New York. Back to work, where he could bother them no longer, and where they wouldn't find the chinks in his armor to hurt hi through. 

Doumyouji sighed and rubbed his eyes. He thought too much these days. Life was too complicated. He should just agree; Soujiro was right, and pack his bags and go. He could be on the next flight out tonight. 

But he knew he would not do that. He would stay on in Tokyo, until some resolution was reached. They couldn't live in this deadlock forever, could they? 

Long after the girls had grown tired of the park's amusements, and gone home to their respective families, Doumyouji remained, pacing the emptying park, like a caged beast, until he too, was forced out into the streets by closing time.

__

Will is not enough when all those

Lost days stand in the way

But she was

My hopes and dreams my

Whole world.

I could believe

------

After finally dragging himself out of bed that morning, Soujiro had said his goodbyes to Akira, and hurried home to call Rui in for a consultation on, "Issues of great importance." Or so he had half-seriously claimed while on the phone. 

Now, it was early afternoon. Soujiro lay on his back on one of the open porches that graced his house, idly throwing pebbles into a nearby fishpond. The day was warm, and his shirt lay rolled up under his head, as he strove to banish winter's paleness from his skin. Rui sat nearby, on the edge of the deck, dangling bare feet in the still-chilly waters of the pond.

"So, yeah," Soujiro paused, relating the final events of last night, "You shouldn't have gone home so soon. You missed the excitement."

"What excitement?" Rui winced as a passing carp nibbled at one ticklish toe.

"Tsukasa walked in on us."

"Really?" Rui sounded completely unsurprised.

"Is that all you can say?" Soujiro propped himself up on one bony elbow to regard the other boy.

"Yes." Rui let his face remain blank for a few seconds, then broke down in an unexpected fit of giggles.

"What's so fucking funny?"

"Well. .. . It is only fair after all. . . You and Akira Always used to interrupt Tsukasa and Tsukushi in one of their intimate scenes, so turnaround is to be expected."

"Hmph." Soujiro snorted, but Rui was already continuing,

"And besides, You're now experiencing what I like to call "Makino-bedroom-luck."

"What the hell are you babbling about?" Soujiro flicked one of his pebbles at Rui, irritated by the smugly knowing expression on Rui's face.

"Oh come on," Rui easily dodged the flying pebbles, "Everyone, well almost everyone, has walked in on Tsukushi at one time or another. She's just got the worst timing of anyone. Let me see. . ." Rui closed his eyes, as he thought back to some of the stories Tsukushi had told him, or some of the scenes he, himself, had witnessed. ". . . There was the time with Tsukasa in the elevator, and again in Canada, I can't even remember the number of times you and Akira caught them, and then there was Tsubaki. . . "

"Ok, Ok, I get the picture already." Soujiro muttered, "Right. Locked doors, from here on out. . . "

Rui just laughed softly, "Whatever you think will work."

". . . If only I get to keep her that long. . . " Soujiro muttered to himself, as he lay back down on the hard wooden planks. More loudly, he changed topics, "What do you think about Tsukasa?"

"Ummm. . ."

"Oh no, not back to this again."

"No, I was just thinking," Rui replied slowly.

"Yeah, well I was thinking too." Soujiro grumbled, "What the fuck is wrong with him? He comes back here, moping around, can hardly manage to say two words in a row, and shows exactly one emotion? That's not the Tsukasa I knew! He doesn't even get angry, or violent, just sits there and broods. I'd rather get my ass kicked by him any day, than have to deal with that. I mean, I know Tsukushi dumped him, but hell, she rejected you too, and you're not falling to bits. Err.. sorry." He amended the end, a bit chagrined at being so tactless.

"Tsukasa. . . doesn't deal well with rejection." Rui tried to formulate the thought adequately. He wasn't sure if his meaning was getting through, but if anyone could understand, it would have to be one of the other men under Tsukushi's spell. "You know Makino is the first, and only girl he loved. You wouldn't like it if she dumped you, would you? You'd be unhappy, and your feelings don't run as deep as his."

"But five months!" Soujiro exclaimed in disbelief, "Surely that's enough time for him to at least start acting like a normal person -- or rather, at least like his normal self."

"I guess not," Rui shrugged, "Maybe if some one else were to distract his attention. But I think he'd been obsessing all by himself over there in New York."

"Ugh." Soujiro scowled

"Or maybe. . ." Rui went on in considered tones, "It's not really Makino he loves anymore, but the idea of being in love with her? The idea that she's his perfect soulmate?. .. That could explain a lot."

"Ugh." Soujiro repeated, and scowled, "That's just dumb. So how do we distract his attention?"

"Not my problem." Rui stated calmly.

"Eh what? "Not my problem" What kind of bullshit is that?" Soujiro sat back up and glared at the other boy, "The more Tsukasa mopes around, the unhappier Tsukushi's gonna be! You want that?"

"No, but if she's unhappy, then she might just dump you." Rui's eyes had gone hard, as he watched Soujiro turn red and start spluttering.

"What the fuck?! You asshole. I'm so going to kill you for that." Soujiro rolled to his feet and lunged at Rui, knocking his friend into the fishpond. Despite now being sopping wet, Rui was essentially unharmed, and he began laughing softly as he pulled himself, dripping back onto the porch. Soujiro watched warily, and with a kind of stunned disbelief, as Rui stripped his shirt off, and calmly reclined on the warm deck.

"You should see the look on your face." Rui remarked, settling his arms behind his head, "That was so worth it. .. but you can calm down now. . .I was just kidding."

"Jerk." Soujiro muttered, sitting down again.

"Sorry, but seeing you getting jealous is still one of the most amusing things."

"Like you haven't acted the same way, before."

"Of course I have," Rui adopted a superior tone, "But I was never "Nishikado Soujiro, Greatest Playboy in All Tokyo," either. I never said, "I'll never fall in love with one woman, there are just so many more to meet." That was All you." He fell silent then, exuding the unmistakably complacent air of "Beat That if you Can."

"Bah." Soujiro couldn't, of course, refute that argument. "Back to Tsukasa. . ."

"Ah, yes. Distractions. . . "

"Shigeru is the most obvious choice."

"From the accessibility standpoint, sure. . . " Rui trailed off.

"But you don't think she's effective enough?"

"Umm. . ."

"Why not? She's kind of attractive. She's like Tsukushi in some ways. I mean, they're both total spazzes, and I bet she's just as willing to take on Tsukasa in a fight. And she actually likes that idiot. Which I would think is a big plus, right there."

". . . " Rui waited until Soujiro had finished listing his points, "That's not enough. . .You weren't there, the time she tried to seduce him. . ."

"Huh?" Soujiro blinked in confusion

"Right before they called the engagement off last time. It's not something the girls like to talk about.. . . You see, Shigeru essentially tried to force herself on Tsukasa. It didn't go over well."

"And you know this, how?" Soujiro asked in disbelief.

"Tsukushi and I were there. . . come to think of it, Tsukushi walked in on them too, when they were both naked."

"Has everyone in our circle walked in on everyone else by now, or what?" Soujiro snorted.

"Not me." Rui again wore his air of smug calmness.

"Your day will come. Have no fear." Soujiro warned. If I have to stage it myself, you'll suffer like the rest of us, "Anyway, back to Tsukasa. I find it hard to believe that anyone could fail to respond to an attractive naked girl coming on to them."

Rui shook his head, either in agreement, or pity at his friend's simplistic view, "It's Tsukasa."

"And you don't think she'll be anymore effective this time?"

Rui shook his head.

"But she's his fiancée."

"So she was last time too."

"Well fuck. What about Sakurako?"

"You're not serious?" Rui laughed in disbelief.

"No, not really," Soujiro agreed, "but I don't know that many other single females who'd even stand a chance."

"Sakurako's not single."

"Shit." Soujiro grimaced, and laughed at his own stupidity, "You're right"

The two boys rested in silence a few more minutes. Rui basked in the sun, with his eyes closed, until a thought hit him, and his eyes shot open. "What about Tsukushi's friend Yuki? Tsukasa always used to at least be civil towards her."

"What! She's not single either, you idiot! How could you forget, She's dating Akira. Has been all winter! Hello? Where have you been?"

"Umm. . . " Rui sat back up and fixed Soujiro with his gaze.

Soujiro could feel his jaw begin to clench as Rui's meaning finally sunk in. . . "I'm going to kill Akira." he breathed at last, "He didn't say anything to me.

"He knew you'd be pissed. Between you and Tsukushi, that guy's in for a rough couple of weeks. But he hasn't dumped her yet. You can stop making those fists."

"Bastard. If he makes Yuki cry, I'm going to have to put him in the hospital."

"If Tsukushi doesn't beat you to it." Rui agreed quietly.

"True. But we are not sacrificing her to The Doumyouji monster, ether way."

"And you won't give up Tsukushi to him."

"Hell no."

"It probably wouldn't solve anything anyway."

"Exactly, so where does that leave us?" Soujiro was still fuming over Rui's news about Akira's planned dumping of Yuki. What kind of best friend couldn't be trusted to tell him something so important? No wonder he hadn't been willing to come over here today. That brat was probably off scouting for a new woman even as Soujiro and Rui spoke together now.

"I don't know any more women." Rui expressionlessly stared up at the sky.

"What about guys?" Soujiro suggested, half-jokingly.

Rui cocked a questioning eyebrow.

"Well why not? The only girl Tsukasa's ever been interested in is Tsukushi. And even I have to admit, she's just not very feminine. And if he could fail to react to a naked Shigeru trying to hump him.. well then, maybe he's really gay?"

"Your logic is as astounding as ever." Rui murmured sarcastically, "Does that mean you and I are also both homosexual?"

"Well no, you liked Shizuka too. And I've had hundreds of women under my belt. We're not gay. . . Well, ok maybe You are. I still can't believe you gave up Shizuka, hottest woman on the planet!. .. but I'm not.." Soujiro rambled on, oblivious to Rui's cold withdrawal, "Hey wait, maybe you should distract him! Dude, that'd rock. And It'd be so symmetrical too-- just think, once rivals for Tsukushi's love, you two could find each other? It would be so romantic.. . "

This time, it was Soujiro who ended up unceremoniously on his ass in the fishpond, when Rui grew irritated enough to do to his friend what had earlier been done to him.

"That's not funny." He remarked, as Soujiro laughed from his position in the water.

"Oh yes it was." Soujiro grinned widely, "Payback."

"And now we're both wet." Rui patted his still damp jeans.

"Oh well." Soujiro shrugged, and climbed back on the deck, "That still doesn't solve our problem."

"No. no it doesn't."

Luckily for the two boys left fruitlessly scheming in the spring sunshine, the fates had a plan all of their own for Tsukasa, and neither Soujiro nor Rui's intervention would be required in the events that were to transpire in Tsukasa's life. 

__

Now you'll have to trade

Your past away

And find another day.

So is change a friend or an enemy?

To be continued. . . 

Right, I'm thinking that this is going to be one really fucking long story by the time I'm done-- given how far I've got to go to get to the desired endpoint. And how I been dragging each chapter out. Yeesh. I think I lost my ability to be concise. Oh yeah, and given my fairly erratic updateschedule recently, I've decided to start an update list, so if you want me to send you email when I update, send me mail at curdled_milk@attbi.com. and, for the curious, the lyrics are from Crossroads -by Offspring. Before they went mainstream and started to suck . . mmm screaming and crunchy guitar chords..


	10. an interesting idea

oh wow, I never meant to go off on a soujiro-tsukushi tangent in this sequel. Fuck, I think my fingers went off without me again. yeah, given the lengths of these chapters, it's obvious they haven't accepting criticism from my brain in a long, long time. good thing too, cause if they were, these chapters would be about NF-kB or metaness, kinda like my dreams. Ugh. Oh well, this is what I get for writing without a well defined plot  
  
Life is a delicate balance between pain and laughter. Sometimes it's hard to know just what will tilt the scales one way or the other.  
  
And sometimes, pain is about as subtle as a kick in the face.  
  
Tsukushi was on her way home when she remembered she'd forgotten to ask Shigeru about something. She'd wanted to schedule dinner with the other girl, and maybe talk seriously about, well, guy problems, but in her distracted state at the end of the day, it had totally slipped her mind. Tsukushi shrugged, "Oh well", and took out her cell and punched in Shigeru's number. Several rings later, she got Shigeru's voicemail.  
  
"Eh, she must not be paying attention." Tsukushi muttered to herself, "She never goes anywhere without her cell." She redialed, and waited impatiently for her friend to answer.  
  
------  
  
Amon was working the opening shift at the club, cleaning glasses and getting the bar all ready for the nightly rush of customers, when he felt an unfamiliar buzzing in the pocket of his apron. Curiously, he reached down and discovered the cell phone that girl had forgotten, what was her name? Ah, Shigeru. Idly, he wondered if he should answer the phone, if it was Shigeru calling looking for her lost property, or some equally ditzy friend of hers? But by the time he'd fished the offending item out, the ringing had stopped. Amon shrugged and set the phone down on the counter anyway, just in time for it to start ringing again.  
  
Thus time, he could see the caller ID going into effect, and his eyes widened at the name that lit up the screen, Tsukushi? This could be interesting. Unhurriedly, he answered the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
It was obvious the girl on the other end wasn't listening very closely at first, "Hey Shigeru, I forgot. . . Wait, hello, who Is this?" Her voice grew suddenly agitated, as she realized that a male voice had answered her.  
  
"This is the Inferno nightclub and bar, lost and found." Amon smoothly bullshitted.  
  
"Oh!" Tsukushi stammered, "Umm. I guess my friend must have left her phone there? Can I come pick it up?"  
  
"Certainly. Do you know our address?" Amon gave no clue that he knew who was calling. He thought it would be. .. . amusing. .. to surprise the nervous girl when she showed up. And she probably wouldn't come, if she knew who she was talking to. Therefore, Amon maintained his professional pretense for a few moments more.  
  
Tsukushi hastily grabbed a scrap of paper from her purse and scribbled down the dictated directions. "Thanks! I'll be right there!" Shaking her head at the careless way rich people could lose such a pricey toy, and not even notice a day later, Tsukushi headed for the nearest train station, not even stopping to think about what she was doing. On the train, however, she did a double-take; somehow that voice on the phone had sounded eerily familiar. Was it someone she knew? Maybe Shigeru was playing some kind of game? That would be very like the other girl, to tease her with a mystery. But for the life of her, Tsukushi couldn't place the voice. Finally, she decided that she must be imagining things, and spent the rest of the trip shaking her head over her own foolishness.  
  
The club was still quiet as Tsukushi hesitantly entered. The lone bouncer looked at her curiously. It was far too early for most clubbers to be out.  
  
"Umm. . . hi." Tsukushi looked brightly up at the man, "I'm here to collect my friend's cell phone, the man I talked to said it was here somewhere?"  
  
"Yeah," the bouncer grunted, "You want to talk to Kunisawa. Through there, the bar on the right."  
  
"Thanks!" Tsukushi smiled up at him and went in. Err.. Kunisawa? The thought percolated through her head too slowly, too late and she rounded the corner only to skid to a sudden halt. "A. . . Amon?" she managed as she took in the sight of the handsome man leaning on the bar lazily tossing a familiar cell phone in the air and catching it with one hand.  
  
"Mmm . . . Tsukushi. It's been a while." Amon grinned at Tsukushi's sudden flustered nervousness.  
  
"Yes well. . . I was busy, and umm then. . so you work here now? Was that you on the phone, before? Thanks for finding Shigeru's phone. Can I have it now?" Tsukushi broke into her usual nervous babble.  
  
"Busy, eh?" Amon, made no move to approach Tsukushi. He just leaned back on the countertop and watched her display of flushed embarrassment, "I hear you dumped the brat? Finally took my advice?"  
  
"Errr. . . what?! That's none of your business."  
  
"Of course it is." Now Amon did slide closer, "You wouldn't leave the rich kid for me -- Who understands you better than he ever could.. . I want to know, what kind of man you did dump him for."  
  
"Jerk." Tsukushi took a step back, "I didn't dump Doumyouji for anyone. . . but if you must know, I'm now seeing Nishikado Soujiro!"  
  
"Another rich boy? . . " Amon sneered, "Wait. . . I know that name. . . Tall, short black hair, long bangs. Attractive, always has two or three bimbos hanging off of him?"  
  
Tsukushi nodded slowly.  
  
"That's your boyfriend?" Amon's disbelief was obvious  
  
Again, Tsukushi nodded.  
  
"That's a step down from the last one. That guy used to be in here all the time. Never left without a different girl too. Even I never thought you were stupid enough to be his type. Is he really as good a lay as all the chicks seem to think?"  
  
"I wouldn't know." Tsukushi's cheeks flushed crimson.  
  
"Still playing the innocent virgin?" Amon's tone was cuttingly sarcastic, yet somehow an edge of wistfulness still showed through.  
  
Tsukushi's continued blush was all the answer Amon needed. He shook his head slowly, and stepped up to Tsukushi before she could react.  
  
"You should have chosen me." Amon put one hand on Tsukushi shoulder, and tilted her chin up to face him with the other. Tsukushi tried to look away, but Amon's grip was firm, and his voice knowing, as he continued, "A guy like Nishikado. . . If you don't give him what he wants, he's just going to go find it somewhere else." He was, of course, referring to sex.  
  
"Soujiro wouldn't do that. Not to me." Tsukushi murmured in denial. Not like she hadn't thought the same thing a hundred time already.  
  
"Look at me," Amon commanded, "You know I'm telling the truth. Have I ever lied to you?" he laughed, "Well ok, except for that one thing.. . . A guy like that, a guy who's all flirt and physicality. . he can't understand you. Not really. And he'll just leave when he's taken all you can give him." Slowly, Amon was backing Tsukushi into a wall as he distracted her with his talk. "Really. .. you deserve better than that."  
  
Tsukushi tried to wriggle free, as she realized she was trapped, "No!" she exclaimed, trying to free her mind from the mental trap he was weaving as well, "He's not like that at all! Let me go! What do you think you're doing?"  
  
"But does he make you happy?" Amon was nothing if not persistent.  
  
Tsukushi could only stare up at the tall man helplessly. She didn't know. Was she happy? If she was, was it because of Soujiro? She hadn't been happy much recently. For a while, she'd been less sad. . but happy? It wasn't something she let herself dwell on much.  
  
Amon took advantage of her confusion to finally push the unresisting girl back against the wall, and seize her lips in a long slow kiss. Something he had wanted to do for a long, long time. Tsukushi tried to struggle, when she realized what was going on, but Amon was stronger, and she couldn't win. When he drew back at last, Tsukushi was furious. She slapped him across the face.  
  
Amon let her blow land, then backed away, a satisfied smirk half hovering around his lips. "You haven't changed at all. I'm glad." He smiled more sincerely than before, "Don't ever change. No matter what they tell you." He tossed her Shigeru's phone, "And tell your friend, she should be more careful. There are dangerous men out there who might take advantage of a defenseless female. . ."  
  
Tsukushi was still spluttering over his unwanted advances, and barely processed the meaning of his final words, though they remained imprinted upon her brain.  
  
"I will never understand men." Tsukushi decided as she turned to flee the overbearing, confusing, but somehow compelling man with whom she'd once shared a strange sort of friendship. . But Amon's quietly spoken final words stopped her for a few seconds more.  
  
"I was serious, Tsukushi. I know you don't like me now, if you ever did, but I promise you, I could make you happier than any of your little rich boyfriends could. If you're ever single again, you know where to find me -- I put my number in your friend's phone."  
  
Tsukushi nodded slowly. Unwilling to accept his words, but forced to absorb them nonetheless. Then she hurried back the way she'd come.  
  
"Got what you came for, miss?' the bouncer asked as she passed him.  
  
"Yes, thanks." He noticed that the girl looked considerably more upset on her way out, than she had on her way in. but it was none of his concern. The bouncer shrugged, looking back out over the street, After all, Amon often had an upsetting effect on people. Like that pretty girl who'd been in here the other night. .  
  
"Hey Amon!" he shouted into the back room, "What is it with you and girls these days? There was the one you were trading spit with last night, and now this one? Hell, man. I thought you gave up on women! Besides, the chick last night was way cuter, if you ask me."  
  
Amon stalked out from behind the bar to glare dangerously at the bouncer, "Tsukushi is an old friend. It would behoove you not to insult her in front of me."  
  
"Sure, whatever man." The bouncer felt no need to get into a fight with another employee. Still, he couldn't resist one final gibe, "But 'old friends' don't slap that hard last time I checked. You sure that wasn't an angry ex?"  
  
"Nah." Amon shrugged, rubbing his sore cheek wistfully, "Makino was never mine.. . "  
  
"Whatever." The bouncer turned away, bored with the conversation. He didn't understand Amon's mood. He'd never seen the cynically bitter man act all dewy eyed over a mere girl before, or, in fact over anything. In the nine months Amon had been working at the Inferno, the bouncer had seen the man often with a predatory gleam in his eye, as he seduced unwilling targets, and sometimes with a slightly sadistic glint as he toyed with eager groupies, only to drop them in an instant for one of their friends. Often, Amon was cruel, and played the game of romance more for the challenge of manipulating people into liking him, especially those whom at first were the most wary. However, to those that knew Amon, even these cruelties and predatory games seemed merely a hardened veneer for the bitter man beneath. And never had the bouncer seen Amon express any emotion as genuine as the one's he'd just expressed over this Makino chick.  
  
------  
  
Tsukushi fumed as she walked down the street. Where did Amon get off telling her how to live her life. And she hated it, absolutely Hated it, when guys kissed her without her permission. It was her body! They shouldn't take such liberties! And the way he'd pinned her there! She hated violent guys! Tsukushi couldn't remember why it was she'd ever thought she could try to date the man. In some ways, his own brand of arrogance was worse than Tsukasa's. Above all, she strove to reject everything he'd said as lies or perversions of the truth, lest she be forced to face the words that had echoed her own fears; that Soujiro would leave her if she didn't put out, or that she wasn't really happy, and couldn't ever find real happiness with the ex-playboy.  
  
The seeds of doubt, already planted in Tsukushi's mind, had long since begun to germinate, and now watered by Amon's words, took deeper root in her subconscious. . . and like some insidious vine, began to squeeze out the comfortable stability that Tsukushi had so recently found in her relationship.  
  
Another trip on the train, a long walk, and Tsukushi arrived at Shigeru's Tokyo residence. Hesitantly, she rang the buzzer for the Okawahara family's penthouse apartment, and waited for Shigeru to let her in.  
  
Shigeru was not expecting to see her friend again this evening, but she was happy nonetheless, to be distracted from her own brooding.  
  
"Come in! Come in! Couldn't get enough of my company this afternoon?" Shigeru teased, grinning.  
  
"You got it." Tsukushi tried an answering grin, but failed to achieve adequate wattage to convince her energetic friend that she meant it.  
  
"What's wrong?" Shigeru grew solicitous as she ushered Tsukushi into the elevator.  
  
"Oh nothing. Really," Tsukushi sighed, "Oh! The reason I came by!" She tried to distract Shigeru by changing the subject hastily, "I tried calling your cell to ask you about dinner tomorrow. . but umm. well.. You lost your phone."  
  
"I did?" Shigeru's eyes grew wide. "When? How? I don't remember that at all." She shrugged, "Guess I'll have to get a new one."  
  
"Oh no!" Tsukushi protested, "When I called. umm. .. Someone. at the club you lost it at picked up, so I went and fetched it for you." She held out the phone.  
  
Shigeru blinked. .. The club. . . where she'd lost her phone. .. the club where she'd tried to bribe the Doumyouji lookalike into a kiss. . . Oh dear.. . She started to blush as a sinking feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. "Did they say anything when they gave you the phone?" She stammered, hoping the answer was no, praying that Tsukushi hadn't spoken to Kunisawa -- that he hadn't told her what Shigeru had asked of him.  
  
"Well. .. " It was now Tsukushi's turn to blush, "Actually, I ran into an old. . . friend. Kunisawa Amon -- remember him?"  
  
Shigeru couldn't lie when faced with a direct question. "The. . . Tsukasa look-alike." She stammered, flushing faintly, with the remembrance of his face, of the knowing way his tongue had caressed her willing lips. ..  
  
"Yeah." Luckily, Tsukushi was completely oblivious to her friend's agitation. "He's still scary." She gave a small shudder. . . "And, actually he had a message for you."  
  
"R.. . Really?"  
  
"Yup. You mean you didn't see him last night?" Tsukushi didn't wait for a answer but barreled on, "Umm.. he said 'Tell your friend to be more careful- - someone out there might take advantage of her.' Do you know what he meant? What were you doing in a club like that anyway?"  
  
Shigeru deflected her friend's questions as best she could, feeling guilty and selfishly ashamed of herself, even as she did so. Soon, the two girls found themselves ensconced in Shigeru's cozy bedroom, while Shigeru tried out some new colors of nail polish on Tsukushi's toes.  
  
"Shigeru?" Tsukushi broke a long silence hesitantly.  
  
"Mmm?" Shigeru was afraid Tsukushi was going to press her further on what she'd been up to last night, but that was actually far from Tsukushi's mind right now.  
  
"Ummm.. " Tsukushi paused again, blushing crimson, "Ah. . I need some advice."  
  
"Sure." Shigeru smiled brightly, relieved that her friend's thoughts were not veering in a dangerous direction, "What is it?"  
  
"Ah.. . . Do you think. .. DoyouthinkIshouldhavesexwithSoujiro?" Tsukushi finally forced it all out in a rush.  
  
"Well, of course, he's your boyfriend.. What! You mean you guys haven't yet?" Shigeru incredulously interrupted herself. "But it's Nishikado Soujiro! The sex-fiend of Tokyo.. . I could have sworn you two would have. . . then what Have you been doing all those nights . . . I mean. Oh!"  
  
"Shigeru!" Tsukushi was horrified and embarrassed by her friend's reaction, "Finish a sentence! Please!"  
  
Shigeru was watching her friend with wide eyes. "Tsukushi! If I had a boyfriend like yours! One who even cared for me a tenth of what Soujiro does for you. . . " She let her sentence go unfinished, as Tsukushi hung her head.  
  
"I'm sorry! I've been so selfish." Tsukushi began to apologize profusely. How could I not remember How Shigeru must be feeling right now? "My problems must seem so stupid compared to yours! I feel like such an idiot. . . "  
  
"Let's just forget it." Shigeru gave a small sad half smile and ended the conversation.  
  
Still, Tsukushi couldn't help but wonder, what it was she should really do? Were her friends all right? Was she ready to move on to the next level? Would she lose him if she didn't? Would she lose him if she did? But valid answers were no more forthcoming from her own mind now than they had been before.  
  
Shigeru broke the ensuing silence with an unexpected question, one she had, unsuccessfully tried to prevent herself from asking.  
  
"What's he really like? . . Kunisawa Amon, I mean?"  
  
Tsukushi gave her blond friend a sharp look, as of to say, why would you want to know that? . . . But at the back of her mind, she already had a sneaking suspicion she knew why, and with an inward sigh, she began to answer, as best she could. . .  
  
-------  
  
Tsukasa had followed Tsukushi from the mmusement park. Somewhere in the back of his brain he might have had some half-formed notion of getting her alone and talking to her-- really talking to her, alone, A new start. But he never made up his mind to close the distance between them. He was somewhat confused when she made a call on her cell phone and changed directions abruptly, but he managed to duck down a sidestreet when she passed, and took up his pursuit after she was safely ahead of him once more. When she entered a flashy club, he was even more surprised; Tsukushi had always hated clubs, but he found the answer in the extra cell phone clutched .. . a little too tightly. in her hand when she reemerged. That however, did 't explain the storm clouds gathering behind her eyes, and Tsukasa wisely made the decision not to approach the fuming girl at this juncture. Briefly, he considered his other alternative -- an attempt to make peace with Shigeru. But he didn't think he could stomach the effort that would require at this juncture. He'd rather go back to being alone, because only alone could he truly allow a state of numbness to encompass his entire being. Well, he was alone now. He'd been alone even when in a room full of his old friends -- alone by virtue of shutting off all true lanes of communication with them. The only time he hadn't felt surrounded by his splendid isolation was that brief conversation he'd had with Soujiro this morning. Then, he'd almost begun to feel his defenses slipping -- almost begun to feel like his friends understood his pain, and might somehow sympathize. Almost. But Not quite. For he just could not forget that it was, in some sense, Soujiro's fault he felt this way at all.  
  
Doumyouji shook his head. Round and Around in circles we think. This was getting him nowhere Fast. He decided to go into the club and get a quick drink, just to slake his thirst, before he went home to get some work done.  
  
--------  
  
Long after Tsukushi left, Amon was thinking about her. Actually, he was thinking about more than just her-- he had this odd premonition that he was about to be sucked into some strange dealings with her entire social circle soon. A premonition no doubt inspired by his meeting with that odd Shigeru chick last night. Amon rubbed his forehead wearily. He really didn't need that kind of complication in his life right now. And he definitely didn't want to deal with girls. He tried to think of the last girl he'd successfully dated. . . there had been that one chick a few months ago? But no, he gave himself a mental slap, he'd merely pursued that one to piss off one of her friends. It had been a while, then.  
  
On the other hand, he'd recently found boys to be excellent sport. They didn't all primp and preen and Giggle like girls -- Amon hated giggling bimbos with a passion. And the chase-- the delicate game of flirtation, invitation, seduction, had a whole different dynamic when the prey was another man. Some might call Amon perverted, or indecisive. He preferred to think of himself as Flexible. It wasn't so much that he liked men or women better -- in fact, as people, very few of them actually interested him at all, and their bodies, their sexual skill was only a fringe benefit. No, Amon didn't really like people, couldn't really force himself to trust many people -- not after that abandonment by his parents so many years ago, and while he found he could understand people easily, he just couldn't relate to most. He used his understanding for his seductions, and for playing mindgames, and kept a callous emotional distance from everyone-- well everyone except Makino. But she was a special exception.  
  
Amon polished the last of his stack of glasses, and set about mixing drinks. By now, the club was beginning to fill up, and the other bartender had quite enough to do without Amon slacking off daydreaming.  
  
Tsukasa wound his way through the busy club, as f in a daze. All he wanted was a quiet spot to sit down, but obviously he'd picked the wrong club. Luckily for him, however, the other club-goers must have sensed the negative aura rolling off him; the attitude that said, "Bother me and you won't live long enough to regret it," and hastily cleared a space for him at the corner of the bar. Even women who normally would have tried to flirt with such a handsome and rich-looking guy, kept their distance, leaving Doumyouji alone with his thoughts.  
  
"Hey Amon!" Amon's bartender friend called cheerfully to the waiter, "Don't you think that guy down there looks like you? You didn't tell me you had a brother?"  
  
Amon turned to follow his friend's gaze, but he already knew what he'd find, "Hmm. . . Has this place suddenly become trendy or something?" He asked, a bit too casually.  
  
"Eh, well, we did get written up in last week's "Stuff to Do" magazine. Why? Who is that?"  
  
"That, my friend, is the heir to one of Japan's largest fortunes-- Doumyouji Tsukasa."  
  
"Whoa. You're not serious? Dude, he looks exactly like you. But with weird hair." To himself, the bartender privately thought that Doumyouji and Amon shared more in common than just looks. They sort of both had the same empty eyes, and a face that gave nothing away; nothing but the feeling of infinite isolation.  
  
Amon shrugged, "Trust me. We're not related. The kid's a brat."  
  
"You sound like you know him? How on earth did you ever meet someone so rich?"  
  
Again Amon shrugged, "Through his ex-girlfriend. Anyway, did you get his order yet?"  
  
"No, no. Why don't you take care of him, since you're already friends."  
  
"Hah, hardly that." Nevertheless, Amon went off to talk to Doumyouji. His premonition had been right. Here was the man, himself, the true source of Amon's discontent. Had it not been for him, he'd never have met Tsukushi; never been forced to admit she had something he wanted. .. Never realized what a waste his life had always been. But it was too late for regrets. He had his own amusements now, and there was no point in blaming Doumyouji or his bitch of a mother for it all.  
  
"Well, well, if it isn't the prodigal?"  
  
Tsukasa looked up as the soft voice mocked him from behind the bar. "Wha. . ?" Whatever he was going to say trailed off as his eyes locked with Amon's, the two matched sets staring back at each other.  
  
It was the first time the two boys had ever looked this closely at one another, and Amon found himself being sucked in Tsukasa's steely gaze, as he read the younger boy like a book. The face that turned up towards him was eerily familiar, so much like his, yet subtly different. There was a sort of innocence in that face, the youthful inexperience of life that Doumyouji could not hide. For while the rich heir might be knowledgeable in the ways of business, and in how to manipulate the shallow and greedy minds that thrived in such society-- and how to terrorize the rest-- he had no real experience in understanding, or relating to the rest of the world; from the teeming middle class wage earners, to the poorest of the proletariat. He knew little or nothing of these worlds, knew nothing of what it was like to starve, to scrimp and save, just to get through each month. This man, whose words could determine the fate of a thousand such families, he knew nothing of what it was like to truly live -- to enjoy the simplest thing in live, to taste the small joys that one could have, without wanting -- without needing -- the biggest and brightest of everything that money could buy. All this ignorance showed clearly in his eyes.  
  
But this was but one of the facets Amon read. Much more clear was the sense of emptiness the younger boy exuded. He knew his life was shallow, knew his actions were petty and meaningless on a human scale. Much like Faust, he despaired, and longed for the unattainable, without being able to enjoy the good things that were set before him.  
  
And worse, Tsukasa showed signs of self-hatred. Lack of sleep, and unconcern for his own well being were easy signs to see, as well as the subtle glimmer in the eye, that to those who knew how to read it, said clearly, "It doesn't matter what I think or do or feel, for this life of mine isn't worth caring about in the least." Tsukasa had shut himself off from the world -- a self imposed isolation, even worse than the isolation he'd felt as a young boy, left alone in a large house with no one to love him but an old maid and a violent sister.  
  
Looking down at the boy, Amon felt an unwanted sense of kinship. The boy reminded him of himself when he was younger, before he'd learned to cope with the world; before he'd learned enough to curb life's pain by hiding in cynicism, before he'd found distraction in toying with others. He could easily see Tsukasa growing more like him as he aged, except that Tsukasa's shield of cynicism would be that much greater for his greater responsibilities, and his thoughtless games with his subordinates would take on a cat-and-mouse quality, as Tsukasa's heartless, callous whims ruled the Doumyouji corporation, and terrorized its employees.  
  
Or. . . Tsukasa could remain as he was, a broken shell. Working robotically, numbly, through his tasks, till he worked himself into an exhausted death at too early an age.  
  
The sad man sitting here, staring bleakly up at him, seemed to offer no opportunities for hope, not that Amon was a great believer in hope, anyway. But still, there was something that dug at him, deep beneath his hardened bitterness, something that said, "This boy. . . This boy resembles you. Remember how you sat alone, ten years ago, in an empty apartment, abandoned by your family, abandoned by everyone you loved? Remember how your friends treated you differently, like you were a pariah? Like you were tainted by just being yourself? And the girls snubbed you, until you taught them who was boss? Until you grew strong enough to bend others to your will, and hurt those who wouldn't obey? This boy could be like you. Do you really want anyone else to feel the way you do now? The world doesn't need more of you."  
  
Amon gave a mental shrug, and replied to himself, "So? Why is that my problem? What do I care what the world needs or wants? When has it ever cared for me?" As has been stated, the guy had a serious problem when it came to actually caring about others. Understanding them? Fine. Playing head games with them? Great. Wanting them to be happy-- to be better people? Not his department.  
  
But the inner voice continued, poking Amon where his nerves were rawest, "If you could do something for this pathetic boy, don't you think Makino would want you to?"  
  
"What an underhanded argument. Makino has nothing to do with this! And what exactly, is it that I'm supposed to be doing, anyway?"  
  
"That's what you think. We can continue this argument later. And if you win. . . well, let's just say you'll have plenty of opportunity to play the game our usual way then . . Meanwhile, here's what you should do. . .."  
  
"No fucking shit." Amon almost grinned at the action that sprang to mind. If nothing else, it was an experiment that could prove. . Interesting.  
  
To call that an understatement, would in and of itself, have been an understatement.  
  
-----  
  
Amon's internal dialogue had taken all of a few hundred milliseconds, during which time his eye contact with Tsukasa hadn't wavered.  
  
"I know why you're here." Amon spoke pleasantly enough, but with a mocking undertone that grated at Tsukasa.  
  
"Yeah, so do I. For a drink." The discontented boy growled back.  
  
"A drink won't cure what's wrong with you."  
  
"Like you'd even know. What's with you, asshole?"  
  
"Hmm. . . let me see. . . Well, first off, your lovely fiancée was in here last night. Very enjoyable young lady. Nice lips. But nothing compared to Tsukushi, wouldn't you say?" Amon lifted one sneering eyebrow, enjoying Tsukasa's sudden discomfort. "Yes. I thought that was the problem. Like I said. A drink won't cure that little fixation of yours . . ."  
  
"And you have a better idea?" Even in the depths of his melancholy, Tsukasa could be relied on to snap back at just about any provocation.  
  
"Of course." Amon gestured Tsukasa to lean closer across the bar, as he lowered his voice. "The solution.. . . Is Passion."  
  
Doumyouji looked annoyed and confused at Amon's pseudo-dramatic pronouncement, but he had leaned forward to catch the last of Amon's words, anyway. Which is just what Amon had intended. He judged, correctly, that Tsukasa would be too stunned to fight what he did next, and with a predatory swiftness, Amon stretched out one strong arm to trap the younger boy's cheek, as he himself leaned forward to seize Tsukasa's lips in a mocking kiss.  
  
Tsukasa was, indeed stunned into immobility. He couldn't even think, caught as he was, by the suddenness of Amon's totally unexpected action. No One touched Doumyouji Tsukasa without his permission. Not if they wanted to live. And here was someone. . .not just anyone, but a Man, violating him in a deeply personal way! Tsukasa could feel the rage boiling just beneath his skin, but he couldn't lift a muscle. Not even to pull away. Worse, his eyes were locked on Amon's, and he was drowning in the surreality of it all. The face that so resembled his own, eyes that looked into his soul-- it was almost as if he was being kissed by himself . .. and who, when they are feeling their lowest, hasn't wanted to give themselves comfort, and provide themselves with the pleasure that only you know how to give yourself? And more, Tsukasa had thought himself impervious to the pleasures of the flesh. The only one he'd ever wanted, ever burned for, had been Tsukushi. Even Shigeru's naked body hadn't been able to tempt him. But her hysterical flailings had been nothing like this. . . Nothing like this mockingly knowing kiss, that taunted his unresisting lips, hinting at delicious perversions yet to be discovered, promising delights that only one who truly understood his needs could provide. Tsukasa was not a willing participant; could hardly even be said to be a participant at all; merely a recipient of this kiss, but even he couldn't deny the achingly hot sensation growing deep in the pit of his belly, as Amon's tongue teased at him.  
  
It should be noted that Amon was a champion kisser, when he wanted to be. He knew how to read his targets' moods, knew exactly what they needed to feel, and how to give it to them. His clever tongue was useful for far more than twisting words. But it could only do so much.  
  
Doumyouji's motor control returned with a snap and he broke away violently, dark eyes flashing, and visage purpling in embarrassed fury.  
  
"What the Hell!" he shouted, "You fucking pervert! No one touches me! I should kill you for that!" Inside, he was shaking with shame. Though he hadn't responded, still he'd just allowed himself to be kissed by someone he hated, and not only someone he'd hated, but a guy at that! He felt tainted, dirty. . as if Amon had deliberately set out to humiliate him. As if his day hadn't been bad enough already.  
  
"I wouldn't make a scene if I were you," Amon straightened up, his cheeks still flushed and breathless from his tantalizing efforts. "I don't think you'd want to let everyone know just how much you . . enjoyed. . my little demonstration."  
  
Doumyouji paled as his eyes followed Amon's lazily pointed finger down to the unmistakable bulge in his pants.  
  
"See?" Amon laughed harshly, "I told you. Passion. You don't fucking need love to forget your misery. All you need is passion. From what I saw, your little fiancée is just full of that. I've been thinking of giving her lessons. If you want, I can help you too. From what I can tell, you certainly need it." his mocking tone gave no clue as to just how much he'd just enjoyed taking Tsukasa by surprise like that. He wasn't afraid of the younger boy's threats. If it came down to a fight, Amon bet he was just as strong as him, and probably knew a few more tricks too. . . No, in this battle, Amon held all the winning cards, and Tsukasa seemed to know it.  
  
Mostly, however, Doumyouji was just confused. Angry, embarrassed, and confused. And just a little turned on; though, all physical evidence to the contrary, he wouldn't admit that to anyone, ever. And if any of his friends ever found out, he'd never be able to show his face among them again. He could just imagine Akira's look of slack-jawed astonishment, or Rui's disparaging stare, now He found himself at a loss for words, unable even to curse at that complacently grinning pervert behind the bar. He needed to get out of here. He needed to fight this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He needed to clear his head, and above all else, he needed to figure out just what the hell was happening in his life right now. Was he led here deliberately? Had Tsukushi and Shigeru known he was following them? Had Tsukushi brought him here as part of some twisted game? How else would it be that Amon had spoken to Shigeru? Why else would he have kissed Tsukasa? Doumyouji couldn't quite force himself to believe that Tsukushi would let herself be a part of some game this twisted, but maybe she was an innocent pawn?  
  
And still Amon was staring at him, a considering yet somehow sympathetic line etched in his brow. It made no sense. None at all. Stumbling slightly as he got to his feet, Tsukasa wordlessly pushed his way towards the door and out into the bracing chill of the night. A thousand thoughts were whirling in his brain. And not a one of them made any sense at all.. .  
  
Back inside, Amon stood, shaking his head at the display of emotions that had writhed across Tsukasa's expressive face. It had been quite impressive to watch the mix of confusion, disgust, fear, confusion, worry, anger, desire, and more confusion flashing through those deep eyes. Well. That had most definitely been interesting. He had to congratulate his inner voice on coming up with such a deliciously silly plan. There was no doubt in his mind, that despite his disgust, Tsukasa would be back for more. He wouldn't be able to help himself. Not if he was anything like Amon was at that age. The only question now remaining in Amon's mind was, did he want to help put the boy's heart back together, or did he want to toy with him, and make him pay for being the asshole that had kept him from winning Makino?  
  
As he went about his duties once more, Amon's reverie was one again interrupted by his bartender friend.  
  
"Well, I didn't expect that, when I asked you to get his order. I thought you weren't friends."  
  
"We're not." Amon absently replied  
  
"Could have fooled me. I Thought he was more your type than that girl." He laughed, "But, dude. I don't think you're his. You're so totally going to get fired for pissing off someone like that. I hope you've got your resume all in order."  
  
"Bastard." Amon snarled, but without menace, "He's not going to get me fired. Just you wait and see. . . "  
  
Without a doubt, the fun was just getting started.  
  
To be continued.  
yeah yeah yeah. I finished my finals!! No more class ever again! no more finals! (err, that is "no more finals for 2-3 yrs until I go back to med school." Fuck) And of course, I still got quals in a month. Fuck fuck damn. Oh well. That, folks, was the plot twist I promised several weeks ago. Hah, I bet you all are going to hate me now for this bit of silliness, but see, I was travelling for spring break, and we were doing a lot of driving on shitty roads in the mountains, and I was fighting off carsickness with my head between my knees, when an idea hit. "Wouldn't it be amusing if I wrote a story that had a Shigeru/Tsukasa/Amon love triangle?" That was the only idea I had, so I started this thing. that was back in march. Anyway, while I was studying for my exam yesterday, I figured out where this story is going. Don't have an ending yet. But I'm sure I will. it's a long way off, though, so I'm not worried. Whee.. I've had waay too much sugar today. And not enough sleep. 


	11. What do you see, when you look at me?

Warnings! Yeah! mild Tsukasa Yaoi! Weird narcissistic doppelganger intimacy! Maybe I should move this fic to "R" rated section? Naah, there hasn't even been any sex yet … My apologies to those who were disturbed by the last chapter. You probably want to skip this one too. The next one will be ok tho, I think.

__

I only see myself reflected in your eyes

So all that I believe I am essentially are lies

And everything I've hoped to be or ever thought I was

Died with your belief in me, so who the hell am I?

Tsukasa tossed and turned in bed. After fleeing the club and the mocking laughter lurking behind Amon's blank eyes, he'd come straight home to the chill emptiness of the prison he called home. He hoped that the familiar surroundings would help clear his mind, and remind him of who -- and what he was. He did calm down slightly; the cold shower he took helped a great deal in that respect, but still his mind was frazzled, and he felt that he was uravelling at the edges. He tried sleeping, in hopes that his confusion was due to exhaustion, and that rest would help him to understand what had been happening to him. but sleep was far off, and his mind kept replaying that single moment in time. 

The dim lights of the club casting shadows across Amon's face, as the older man leaned forward so unexpectedly . . . the first sensuous brush of lips on his. The knowing way Amon's tongue had traced his lip, mocking Tsukasa's unresponsivity. He'd felt like a prisoner in his own body, unable to move away; to free himself from the heated violation of his senses. 

And the worst of it was, not that he hadn't done anything about it afterwards, but that he'd sat there frozen and docile, as Amon had done these things! Tsukasa didn't understand how he could have just let the other man proceed. He didn't like Kunisawa! Never Had! Not since he'd first learned of Tsukushi's involvement with him! The man was a slut for hire, a poser, a fraud, and a menace! Hadn't he tried to trick Makino? Hadn't he tried to take her to bed? 

Lost in this agony of questioning, Doumyouji suddenly realized one Important thing-- Tsukushi must have felt something like this confusion when he had first kissed her, and claimed her as his girl. She had not understood him then, and she'd hated him. His actions had seemed impenetrable and capricious, but only because she hadn't seen the fire and need that lay beneath. And now, Kunisawa was too much like Tsukasa, yet not enough like, for the younger boy to grasp the situation fully.

What motivations did Amon have, that Tsukasa was missing?

Tsukasa had no idea.

He didn't like not knowing. He liked to be in control. But it had been a long, long time, since he had been in control of anything or anyone. 

So now, he tossed and turned restlesly, and failed to find sleep.

It made him very grumpy, and eventually he gave up. If he couldn't sleep, he should at least deal with some of the paperwork he'd been punting all day. . . with a resigned sigh, Doumyouji climbed out of bed, and looked at the clock on the wall. Midnight. Well, he would work until three and try to sleep, then.

-----

Snug in her own bed, Tsukushi lay awake for quite different reasons. She and Shigeru had had a long talk about boys, and after a while, Sakurako had come by, seeking companionship. Tsukushi had finally overcome her own inhibitions, enough to ask the younger girl -- the only one of the three who actually had had sex before, what, hypothetically speaking, she should do about birth control? Sakurako had burst out laughing at Tsukushi's stammered question. "You mean you've been boinking Soujiro without it?"

"No no!" Tsukushi had blushed furiously, "Why does everyone think that!" while Shigeru whispered in the redhead's ear,

"She claims they haven't been."

Sakurako's perfect lips formed a silent "O" of disbelief. "Well. . . " she said at last, on recovery from her astonishment, "Here's what you need to do. . . "

Now, Tsukushi lay curled on her futon, her brother snoring softly a few feet away. She hadn't been sure before, but she'd come to the realization, that it probably didn't matter if She and Soujiro didn't last forever. What mattered was that she loved him, or thought she loved him now, and he loved her. She needed to live life to the best she could, and this meant she didn't want to have regrets for things she should have done, but passed up. Especially if her reasons for not taking action were lame. She had thought about it all day; all day as she waited in vain for Tsukasa to make his appearance at the park. "Maybe he didn't get the package? Maybe he misunderstood?" But no, she coild feel, deep down, that he'd known what she wanted, that it had been his choice, and his choice alone, not to meet her and Shigeru. There would be no reconciliation with him. 

This saddened her deeply, but at the same time, it made her cherish her time with Soujiro more. She knew she'd been sadly neglecting the sensitive boy recently, and that was something she regretted deeply. But she hoped to make amends with the little surprise she had planned. 

Sakurako had given Tsukushi the number of her gynecologist, and Tsukushi, counting up her meager savings, planned to make an appointment this week. Invisible in the dark, Tsukushi blushed. Sakurako had been quite explicit about what the visit would involve. . . "But," she'd giggled, her eyes sparkling brightly with salacious memories, "It's totally worth it to get on the pill. I don't know what I'd do if it hadn't been invented!" 

Tsukushi had butterflies in her stomach just thinking about it. It was exciting, it was scary! She wanted things to be perfect. She figured, if she took a week to plan, to calm down, she could go through with this. 

She just prayed it would be everything Sakurako promised, and that Soujiro wouldn't be too disappointed. She also violently squashed the paranoid voice that kept trying to pop up and warn her that Soujiro would dump her once he'd had his way with her-- just as he'd dropped every woman before her. But she refused to listen to that irritating buzzing. She knew better! Anyone who said such things about Soujiro didn't know him like she did.

Their small moments of contentment might not last forever, but she prayed they would get her through this difficult time. And she prayed, more than anything else, that she could be happy, if only for a brief while.

At last, she fell into a deep and restful slumber, dreaming of her boyfriend's warm arms and bright smile envolping her in their comforting warmth.

-------

Doumyouji worked furiously at his desk, flying through the mountain of paperwork at breakneck speed. So many stupid requests, so many idiots who thought they deserved first priority for the company's scarce resources. Proposals to be reviewed, status reports to be checked. Such mind numbing tasks couldn't distract Doumyouji for long, and when he snapped out of his official work mode, he found he'd made a significant dent in the piles of paperwork. Though, it was also true that he couldn't consciously remember at this moment, just what it was he had done. He shrugged, in resignation. That didn't matter much. The important details would spring to mind when he needed them. They always did. People thought he was an idiot, and maybe he was about many things. .. . But at the same time, he always knew what was truly important in any situation. The details could be left to others. 

Unfortunately, now that he was no longer in work mode, exhaustion flooded his system, bringing with it the torrential rush of misery that he'd kept backed up inside for the past few hours. 

Doumyouji turned to look out the window at the darkened estate. It was a clear night, and a bright crescent moon graced the sky. He was tired, it was true, but he was also restless and twitchy. Perhaps a nighttime walk could clear his head? Well, he doubted he could sleep now anyway, so it was worth a try. Maybe tomorrow night he'd be exhausted enough to sleep?

Tsukasa threw on a light jacket, and crept out of the silent mansion. He didn't care where his walk took him, as long as it was quiet and far away from this part of town. Some time later, he found himself in a rundown, seedy looking neighborhood. Not that he cared much, but he was thoroughly lost. Dilapidated apartments reared on either side of a dingy, poorly lit street, separated by narrow, dark alleys, from whence suspicious noises could often be heard.

If Tsukasa had been the type to worry about personal safety, then this atmosphere would have been one to inspire concern. However, Tsukasa didn't give a shit. Not only did he care very little about his life right now, but even if he did, he had every confidence in his superior strength and self defense training. Not to mention his innately animalistic violent streak.

Doumyouji paused on one quiet street corner, beneath a flickering street light. He had thought he heard he sound of soft footfalls behind him, or perhaps the gentle shushing of movement? But when he looked around, there was no one there. Still, Doumyouji was no fool. He may have been depressed and distracted, but he was not deceived. He'd known it was stupid getting lost in this part of town. But anyone who tried to mug him deserved what they got. And get it, they would. . . 

Three assailants, three thuggish teens in leather and chains, with switchblades and brass knuckles. And they seriously thought they could take Him? The Great Doumyouji Tsukasa? They obviously didn't know who it was they were dealing with.

"Well, looky here, you got yourself lost in the wrong neighborhood, pretty boy." The obvious ringleader spoke, as the other two boys maneuvered into position behind Tsukasa.

Doumyouji merely stared at the guy with a look of utter disdain.

"Not much of a talker, eh? Well, I wouldn't be if I was in your position either. Why don't you just hand over your wallet, like a good boy?"

"And the jacket too!" one of the other thieves chimed in.

"And the jacket too." The ringleader grinned.

"No." Tsukasa glared haughtily back.

"No?" the spokesman shook his head, in mock sadness, "You sure about that?"

"Are you deaf?" Tsukasa's voice was icy as he gave his final reply, "I said No. you'd better leave while you still have legs."

At this, the three boys broke into hyena-like laughter, and tightened their circle, until their leader gave the order to attack.

They really weren't prepared for a foe like Tsukasa. Taller than them, stronger than them, better trained, and far, far angrier than they could ever hope to be, he brushed aside their attack like swatting a fly. Kicking and punching, ignoring the blade that sliced across his knuckles, he could feel bones crunch beneath his feet. The attack, such as it was, was over almost before it had truly begun. Three thugs lay bleeding, battered, and bruised on the ground, while a panting Tsukasa stood over them, nursing his dripping hand. 

His heart was pounding, his adrenaline racing, and his hand-- his hand hurt like a bitch. He was going to need stitches, and it was absolutely going to suck explaining That to his mother-- "Oh, it's nothing, I cut myself with a letter opener. Really." But overall. . . . Wow. He felt better than he had in months. There was nothing like a good adrenaline kick to strip away life's shit and leave one feeling refreshed. 

Unfortunately, the feeling was short lived, and Tsukasa felt the old weariness creeping over him, as he slouched over the still-groaning bodies on the pavement. 

Sudden movement in the corner of his eye grabbed his attention, and he wheeled, not really wanting to face off any more stupid punks, but not seeing any other choice. . . .

-----

Amon yawned. He'd just finished a long shift at the club, followed by cleanup. He hated cleanup. The state smell of spilled beer and cigarette smoke clogged his nostrils, and the entire club looked stark and downright depressing in the harsh fluorescent lights. His back hurt from all the standing, and serving, and sweeping. Soon, the sun would be rising, and he desperately needed sleep if he wanted to put in some quality study time at the university library this afternoon. Gah. This Afternoon. He hated thinking that phrase at four in the morning. Any self-respecting student would be snug in their beds by now. But not him. Oh no. He had to work. And there was no solace in his empty apartment. 

Amon always hated the lonely walk home after a long night at work. He knew his neighborhood was the shits, but he wasn't going to waste his money moving someplace better. Not when he was so rarely home, anyway. Still, given the hour, he made sure to walk quietly and quickly through the deceptively deserted streets, keeping to the shadows where possible, and trying to get home as quickly as he could. It's not that he couldn't hold his own if attacked, it's just that. ..it was usually a good idea to avoid confrontation. Especially given his own violent nature, he tended to.. . well, overdo it a bit when defending himself. Another thing he and Doumyouji shared in common, though neither knew it. 

He was a mere block from his apartment, when he heard the sound of a scuffle ahead. "Shit." He muttered silently. There just had to be a mugging outside his place. Why tonight, of all nights, when he just wanted to crawl into bed? Now he was going to have to wait here until they'd finished beating their victim, so he could get home in safety. And, with any luck, the poor fool would be unconscious, and Amon could just get by with an anonymous emergency call, and not have to deal with a hysterical mugging victim on his hands as well. What a bloody fucking pain. 

The conflict was short lived, and Amon cautiously stuck his head out around the corner to see if the coast was clear. 

That was when Doumyouji looked up and saw him.

"Damn." Amon cursed succinctly, not immediately recognizing the shadowed figure ahead, but knowing that he'd been seen.

"You. . . " Tsukasa breathed, recovering from his initial shock at he sight of such a familiar, unwanted face peeking out at him from the night's darkness, "Are you following me? What the hell kind of pervert are you?"

"Me?" Amon sneered, coming forward as recognition dawned on him, and carefully avoiding the groaning bodies on the pavement. "I live here." He pointed at a peeling building across the street. "It's me who should be asking you what brings You here? Perhaps you were looking for me?" he arched an eyebrow inquisitively.

Tsukasa blinked stupidly. His exhaustion-fogged, adrenaline-charged brain was not making adequate connections. Kunisawa . . . lived. . here. Tsukasa was standing, bleeding, right outside the older man's apartment. And shit. His hand was really starting to sting now. The pain made it even harder to think. "Wha?" was the best he could manage, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Amon sighed, running a weary hand through his hair, "You are here, lurking outside my apartment, at four am, beating up my worthless neighbors. . . The logical conclusion is that you were waiting for me. I'm flattered, really." He flashed a short-lived evil grin, "But I need sleep tonight. And you need to get that cut looked at. So our little tete a tete will have to wait."

"Damnit! That's not why I'm here!" Tsukasa growled.

"Oh really?" Amon plainly didn't believe him. But it didn't matter. Amon turned his back on Tsukasa and headed towards his flat.

Tsukasa stared at the older man's retreating back. . Hey wait… he may not have come to see Amon, but now that he was here, and in a relatively private place, there was no way in fucking hell he was going to let that bastard leave without getting an explanation of his prior behavior. 

"Wait just one goddamned minute!" Tsukasa snarled, catching up to Amon in a few long strides, and slamming the older man against the crumbling wall of Amon's building. "I want an explanation!"

Amon was unfazed by the attack. "Ah, the impetuousness of youth" he managed to murmur (ignoring, of course, the fact that Tsukasa was only four years younger than himself), as his chill gaze met Doumyouji's heated one, "What do you need explained?"

"You know!" Tsukasa's hands gripped Amon's shoulders tightly, leaving bloodstains on the man's jacket. He knew when he was being baited, and he fought the urge to punch the other man in the face. That damned smug look of superiority just had to go!

"Hmm.. now let me see…" Amon knew Tsukasa was moments away from violence, still he couldn't reset the urge to taunt the boy a bit more. . . . there was just something there that made him want to tease Tsukasa, to toy with him, to bend the boy around his finger. . . And maybe, just maybe, make him beg. . . Ok, so maybe that wasn't all he wanted. But it would be damned entertaining anyway. "Ah! I know" he grinned widely into Tsukasa's astonished face, "You want to know why I kissed your fiancée!"

He was about to continue, but his words were cut off, by Tsukasa's arm compressing his throat. 

"Don't Mock me." Tsukasa's glare alone could have made weaker men wet their pants in fear. But not Amon. He'd worn that look too often on his own face to be afraid of it.

"You're such a predictable child." Amon gasped when Tsukasa at last released his choke hold, "Come on upstairs, and we can talk."

Tsukasa eyed the older man suspiciously as if trying to decide if Amon was liable to jump him again if released. But at last he sighed and let go. Amon stepped back, rubbing his throat. "Fuck, that hurt. And did you have to bleed on me? I think I have some band-aids around?"

Thoroughly bemused by the way Amon's mood seemed to shift with every passing breeze, Tsukasa followed up the stairs. 

The reasons for Amon's mercurial mood shifts was simple, really, nothing he said or did expressed what was really going on behind that calculating face. He enjoyed taunting Tsukasa, that much was true, even when the situation was as odd as the current one. It was a game, and Amon's primary hobby, after all, was fucking with people's brains. Hell, it was hardly a challenge to confuse Tsukasa; the boy was so simple and straightforward, that the slightest nonlinearity could throw him for a loop. But still, there was more. There was always more. Despite his tiredness and need for sleep, Amon found that he didn't really want Tsukasa to leave. He needed to find a way to make Tsukasa want him,, something that'd make the poor confused boy come back for more. 

Amon wasn't quite used to the bizarre emotional rush that he felt whenever his gaze locked with Tsukasa's; the hot flash of recognition of a kindred soul, vied with the undeniable pity he felt for the melancholy teen. Amon wasn't used to feeling pity for people; only a few before had managed to evoke that emotion within him -- ok, make that just one -- Tsukushi. But, yes, he felt sorry for Tsukasa, Mainly because he saw himself in the younger boy, but still… the emotion was there, and it was undeniable. As undeniable as that other more physical ache he had -- the craving to see the face that so resembled his own looking back at him with bright eyes, bruised lips, and flushed cheeks --not the dull orbs and pallid skin that he now saw. The craving to feel that delightfully hard body crushed beneath his own. . . . .

. . . Right. Amon shook his head as he unlocked to door to his small apartment. It was Waay too long since he'd gotten laid. It was time to get his mind out of the gutter, and focus on what he could actually get away with. 

Reality was always such a letdown.

"Have a seat." Amon gestured tiredly towards one of the kitchen chairs, letting none of his inner thoughts escape, especially not that last bit. "I'll go see if I've got any antiseptic for that cut."

Doumyouji looked around the dimly lit room. A few dishes in the sink, a crumpled newspaper on the table, beer cans in the recycling. A typical bachelor's pad, he supposed. Nothing to indicate what sort of man really lived here. For the umpteenth time since he found himself following Amon up the rickety stairwell to the apartment, Doumyouji wondered just what the hell he was doing here. Why had he followed Amon? Did he really think any explanation the older man could give for his actions would make sense? Doumyouji had no clue. And the air of expectation that had somehow settled around the room was making him increasingly nervous. The great Doumyouji Tsukasa hated feeling nervous too. 

"Found it." Amon returned, brandishing a bottle of antiseptic and a box of Bandaids. "put out your hand." 

Tsukasa complied, not even flinching in the slightest at the first touch of the stinging ointment. In fact, his eyes never once wavered from Amon's face. Trying to figure out what was going on behind that oh-so-perfectly composed mask.

"Explanations." He prompted, watching Amon flinch slightly under his intense gaze. Odd, how the man never flinched when Tsukasa had him up against the wall… but now? Tsukasa had no idea what that might mean.

"Mmm…" Amon hummed, carefully plastering a row of bandages over the now-cleaned slice on Tsukasa's knuckles, "You're such a child. So impatient. . . "

"Stop calling me that." 

". . . It's simple really, what I want. Doumyouji Tsukasa. You interest me. You know that? So angry, so unhappy. You remind me of me.. . Oh don't look so surprised! You're still young though. . .There's still hope for you. " Amon turned away, not having meant to say anything quite so serious, "And besides, you look like me. Do you have any idea what a turn on that is?" Seeing Doumyouji's faintly nauseated look, Amon sighed, "I guess not huh? Oh well. . . 

"Well then, let me tell you something else. . . " Amon stared straight into Tsukasa's eyes, as if he could will this man into believing the words that came next. "I understand you. I understand you like no one else ever will be able to. Do you know why? It's because we are so much alike. I know why you're unhappy. I know exactly what you need to feel better. I Can help shake that cloud of despair that hangs over you. No one else can do that. Only me. Because I understand you, I know what you've been through. I've been there myself."

"Why should you care?" Tsukasa spat back, confused by the intensity in the older man's voice.

Amon gave a self-deprecating shrug, "I guess… I just don't want to see you growing up like me."

"Besides," Tsukasa continued headlong, only half-hearing Amon's reply, "All I need is Makino."

"But you can't have her." Amon nearly shouted in frustration, "You lost her!" His voice lowered abruptly, and he continued almost in a whisper, "Something. . I could never have." His voice picked up again, as he sought to defuse some of the building tension, "Hey, we have that much in common too!"

"Yeah, so?" Tsukasa muttered, "You and me and half the men in Tokyo by now."

"No way." Amon had to laugh, "Only a few of us have the singular taste for that girl. . . Anyway. Think about it, Doumyouji Tsukasa. You need someone. You need Something. Why not let it be me?"

Tsukasa was still reeling from Amon's earlier speech. He couldn't really take in more. Was this some kind of Fucked up proposition? "But. .. But. . ." he managed to splutter at last. . ."You're a guy!" He wanted to go on, ranting something about how, he didn't even like Amon, how the guy was a lying, selfish, manipulative bastard. . but something in the glint in Amon's eye stopped him, and he spluttered to silence after his first lame protest. 

"So?" Amon twitched an amused eyebrow, "What's that got to do with it? It all feels the same when the lights are out.. . .. Hmm. . . well, ok. Maybe quite the same. . . but if it makes you feel better, you can always pretend you're kissing yourself."

"T. .. That. .. That's disgusting!" 

"Maybe some other time then?" Amon sighed in not-entirely-feigned regret, "Remember what I said. I know you boy, I know you like no one else ever will. When you need me. Well, you know where I live." He waved a dismissing hand at the door. "Now go home, if you're done listening to me. I need my sleep."

Distrustfully, as if expecting the older man to pounce on him at any second, Tsukasa went.

Long after Tsukasa had vanished into the night. Amon sat at his lonely table staring after him, an emotion close to longing writ large across his face, and all thought of sleep forgotten.

For his part, Tsukasa felt even more confused than when the evening began. Not just confused, but well. .. deeply and truly disturbed. He was used to girls wanting him for his looks, or his money, or his name. . . but never guys. . . much less a guy that made such blatant propositions. . . a guy who. . Doumyouji shuddered, looked too much like him. .. a guy who had tried to steal his girlfriend once. .. a guy who. . .promised to understand him? No one understood him; that was part of Tsukasa's essential loneliness. .. . what would it be like to be understood, for once in his life? To be understood, and appreciated? Someone who didn't see him as simply an idiot, a violent beast, but who could see the heart and the depths that lay beneath it all? . . . But . .. A guy??. . . A creepy guy like Kunisawa? And how could he even think about doing anything, anything at all, with someone he didn't love? Maybe that wasn't what Kunisawa was after? But following on that kiss??? Tsukasa doubted it.

As Doumyouji trudged home, temptation, distrust and loathing warred within him. But somehow, it just didn't bother him as much, as before. Maybe it was the blood seeping through carefully applied bandages that distracted him from his thoughts, or the weariness from his long walk combined with the crash from the adrenaline overdrive he'd had, but he couldn't bring himself to care as much about his unhappiness, or why the world felt the need to try him so.

Enlightenment didn't come, that night. But sleep eventually did, to all concerned..

To be continued.

hmm.. . .Maybe I've said this before, but I should say it again. I really shouldn't try to finish chapters after coming home from going out clubbing on gayboy night…. mMm . . gayboys. . .so Cute!. .. So. . . Not for Me. . . sniffle. ..

Anyway, enough of that. Next chapter: comedic interludes. It's about fucking time I wrote some of those.

And, I realized why this fic isn't so good. It's pretty obvious really. The last two were all about delving deeper into characters based on actual stuff from manga. This fic ain't about that at all, since by this point, i've obviously stopped seeing the characters as they were originally written, and reflecting about how they got to this point doesn't do much. Instead it's just my random plot that I started as a personal challenge. I think really, I should have ended this series after fools, like i said I was going to. Too late now though! And so your stuck with my weirdness. Fun!


	12. Philosophical digressions: author's note

~ Philosophical digressions (An Authors's Note)  
  
I'd hoped I wouldn't have to write this explanation, but judging by the number of "Tsukasa can't be gay!" reviews I've been getting, I guess I have to. All those who sent those reviews should read the following and hopefully it will clear up any confusion you might have regarding this most silly of fanfics.  
  
First: Is Tsukasa gay? Not as far as I know. He has yet to ever express a preference for one gender over the other. The only thing we do know about him is that a) he finds Tsukushi sexually attractive. And b) he doesn't find Shigeru or Sakurako sexually stimulating at all. One pro datapoint does not a sexual-orientation make. In order for Tsukasa to be gay, he would have actually had to strongly show a preference for guys over girls. He has not, as of yet, done so. Nor is he likely to. Q: if, hypothetically speaking he were to actually hook up with Amon, would that make him gay? A: No. again, one pro data point is not statistically significant. Add to this the thought, Tsukasa is a teenager, and a bit of a late-bloomer sex wise, I think everyone can agree to that-- I , mean 18 and not interested in girls? That's a serious lack of hormones right there. So now he's finally beginning to mature (maybe) and at that period of life, it's natural to experiment. Even if he weren't depressed, lonely etc, etc. Q: if he's not gay, then why did he respond to Amon's kiss? A: (This is solely an opinion on my part, depending on cultural conditioning, you may or may not agree). It's all about the erogenous zones. Really. If something feels good and is sexually stimulating it doesn't matter who the hell is doing the action. Your body is still likely to respond automatically. It's a matter of reflex pathways. However, you may be mentally upset/ emotionally traumatized. As witness Tsukasa. Like most guys, he is culturally conditioned to see same sex relations as unnatural. Plus he hates Amon.. So he's grossed out. But he can't deny that it felt physically good. So he's confused. Q: why did Amon manage to evoke a response when Sakurako and Shigeru failed? A: It's been a long time since Tsukasa had Tsukushi enough within his grasp to obsess over enough to shunt aside any reactions others might invoke in him. Not to mention the important fact that right now he's depressed and lonely as hell, and Amon's a hell of a good kisser. Eh. It happens. Who can tell me they haven't been attracted to someone they despise, before? I'm not going to ask if any of you have ever been turned on by someone you despise/ someone of your non-preferred gender, but you can ponder the question. Or go find out the answer for yourselves and see if you reach the same conclusions I did. Q: Are Tsukasa and Amon going to hook up, even if Tsukasa's not gay? A: That's a secret.  
  
Second: is Amon gay? No one actually seems to care much about that question, but I'll answer it anyway. No. is he bi? Maybe. See, here's the thing. Amon's got issues. He isn't interested in people for the sex so much, as for the fun of manipulating them. He could care less how the parts fit together, so to speak. That's just a fringe benefit. No, what Amon really likes is getting inside people's heads and making them like him, despite their better instincts. He's good at understanding them, so he's good at that, but he doesn't relate well, so he doesn't enjoy it all that much when people actually do like him. plus he gets annoyed at other things about them. Seduction really is a fun game, and it can be a challenge if you pick your prey right. Amon likes it. but he's still lonely, because he realizes that it's a shit way to live, and much as he can seduce people into liking him, letting him fuck their brains out, etc, he can't make them love him or care about him as a person. And like everyone that's pretty much what he needs, even though he vehemently denies the existence of real love. He's just sort of an unhappy nasty type guy (compare, if you will, to soujiro, who used to seduce girls not for the act of seduction, but for the false intimacy of sex. Soujiro needed the human companionship, but was terrified of commitment, and he didn't need the mind games 'cause girls flock to him no matter what.). Anyway, now, Amon's developed this weird thing for Tsukasa-- part challenge, part lust, part narcissism, part pity. And part. . . resonance? Something Tsukasa's got just clicks with him. He can't explain it to himself except in terms of comparing Tsukasa to himself. . but something is drawing him on.  
  
Third: What to be creeped out by. So for those of you who are upset that Tsukasa might be gay in this fic. If that's what's creeping you out, I don't know what to say. Homosexuality doesn't bother me. What Should be weirding you out is Amon. I think I'm writing him to be pretty messed up. Maybe I could write him as a more classic case of the mood disorder of my choice, but I'm having way more fun this way. yes he's creepy, yes, this fixation of his on his lookalike is fucked, but hell, Tsukasa is a hot guy, who wouldn't want him? You will please note that I have tried to avoid writing anything that makes it look too much like Tsukasa is returning Amon's sentiments at this time. That'd be weird and totally out of character. But he's got a lot to think about. And so, he's thinking.  
  
Fourth and finally: Which way is this little love triangle going to swing? I haven't decided yet. I think Tsukasa-Amon is the most challenging to write convincingly, so that might be fun. But I'd probably get lynched for that. On the other hand, I'm not fond of the Shigeru-Tsukasa side. I dunno, as a couple they just bore me. Shigeru-Amon could be interesting, or very, very bad, depending. So we'll see what happens if and when inspiration hits.  
  
OK then. I think that was all i wanted to discuss. I'm not sure I addressed the points as well as I'd hoped though. Oh well. If nothing else, just remember Tsukasa is Not Gay. One Datapoint = Not enough Information to make that distinction. Even if he were to hook up with Amon, that'd still not make him gay. Is that clear at least?  
  
Thank you for reading this, and I hope to get the next chapter up sometime next week. (probably I'll take this author note down then too). If you're still confused, or just want to argue the finer points of my social philosophy with me, you can contact me, as ever at curdled_milk@attbi.com. 


	13. the real chapter 12

~Ah. I promised you comedy this chapter, did I? Well I lied~  
  
Sunday passed uneventfully, for the most part. Tsukushi stayed home and studied, completely forgetting about all else in her need to catch up on schoolwork. Tsukasa stayed home and did paperwork. Shigeru went shopping, while Soujiro gave up and went drinking with Akira, after waiting uselessly all day for Tsukushi to call him. All in all, it was a day for everyone to take a breather and deal with life in relative solitude.  
  
Monday came around in its own good time, bringing with it the collective groans of school-bound kids everywhere, including Tsukushi, who hauled herself out of bed with a sigh. She hadn't finished her history paper until well past midnight last night, and the last thing she wanted was to leave the comfort of her futon for the dull boredom of Monday morning classes.  
  
Her wishes were, of course, utterly irrelevant, and she trundled to school like the rest of the peons too unimportant to be allowed to skip class without punishment. Outside the school gates, she ran into Shigeru, who, having spent all of Sunday shopping for new outfits, was now in high spirits. It was not, after all, Shigeru's nature to be depressed constantly, and now she latched onto Tsukushi like an over-eager puppy.  
  
"Good morning Tsukushi!" she bubbled brightly, "Are you busy this afternoon? You have to come to my house and see the great top I bought! I got you a matching one! And Sakurako too! We can dress like sisters! What do you think? Or you don't like them, we can go buy more. So when are you free?" Finally, she paused for breath, allowing Tsukushi to get a word in edgewise at last.  
  
"Whoa! Slow down! You know I can't make it this afternoon. . . " Tsukushi trailed off, blushing, "You know. . . The doctor's appointment. . ."  
  
"Oh yeah!" Shigeru exclaimed, "Sorry! . .. We could meet afterwards?"  
  
"Err.. ." Tsukushi trailed off uncertainly. Work, studying, Shigeru? Which option to choose? She should probably call Soujiro, but she didn't think she could face him long without blushing at the thought of what she was planning. . . and she didn't want to give anything away. . .  
  
Seeing that Tsukushi was getting lost in her thoughts Shigeru shrugged, "That's ok, if you're busy! But I'm coming over for dinner tomorrow! You have to make that dish for me, you know that commoner food. .. the one that's so tasty, what is it called?"  
  
"Boiled potatoes?" Tsukushi suggested skeptically, trying to remember just what she'd fed Shigeru last time the other girl had stayed for dinner.  
  
"Yeah! That's it! Soo good!" Shigeru rhapsodized happily, while Tsukushi shook her head ruefully. No matter how much time she spent around rich people, they still continued to amaze her.  
  
The two girls continued on their way to class, only to be interrupted by Sakurako, who sidled up to them, a most remarkable (and unexpected) grin plastered across her face. Tsukushi thought Sakurako looked eerily like the cat that'd just eaten not only the canary, but the pet hamster to boot.  
  
"Wow, Sakurako! What's up?" Shigeru was the first to react to the sight of their smug friend. "You look. . . " She failed to come up with an appropriate adjective to describe the sudden turnaround from the viciously lust-crazed bitterness that had recently been Sakurako's habitual attitude.  
  
Sakurako just continued grinning. "Guess what I did yesterday?"  
  
"What? You finally drugged Rui and jumped him?" Soujiro had sneaked up, unnoticed behind the three girls, and couldn't resist adding his two cent's worth to the conversation.  
  
"No." Sakurako pouted. Soujiro had just ruined her moment. She'd get him for that, later.  
  
"But I'm close, right?" Soujiro persisted. He wasn't a big fan of the two- faced girl, and loved needling her at every possible opportunity.  
  
"Shhh! Let her talk!" Tsukushi rounded on her boyfriend angrily.  
  
"Yeah! This is girl stuff!" Shigeru chimed in.  
  
"Hmph." Soujiro looked unconvinced. He had intended to wait for Tsukushi, but he knew when he wasn't wanted. He'd catch her after the girls had their little chat. . . With a final pleading glance at Tsukushi, he excused himself.  
  
"So!" Shigeru continued eagerly, once the intruding boy was out of sight, "What happened!? Tell us!"  
  
"I slept with Sato."  
  
"What?! Your dull-as-bricks fiance? That's amazing! How did you manage that?" Shigeru asked delightedly. Hmm. . . if Sakurako could succeed with her intended, maybe Shigeru still had a chance with Doumyouji? Yeah right.  
  
Tsukushi merely rolled her eyes, as Sakurako continued, "He and his friends decided to go out to this dreary club last night. Anyway, he invited me-- I guess out of some fucked up sense of responsibility or something. Or maybe he's finally beginning to appreciate just how hot I am.." Catching Tsukushi's somewhat exasperated expression, she hurried on with the story, "Like I said. The place was Sooo boring! So I figured, if I have to be here, I may as well have a little fun, right?"  
  
Sakurako's idea of fun usually involved blackmail or other forms of physical and or emotional suffering, so it was somewhat worrisome that she'd decided to apply it to her intended.  
  
"What did you do?" Shigeru asked, breathlessly.  
  
Sakurako tossed her red curls, delighted to be the center of attention, "Invited him to dance. .. did I mention the music was hip-hop?"  
  
"Oh no. . ." Tsukushi groaned. She knew what was coming. . . She could almost envision the scene as it must have happened. . . Sakurako grinding against the unwitting boy, feeling him up. Rubbing intimately against him as only a girl like her would dare to do in public. . he wouldn't have even known what hit him. And he almost certainly would be too weak in the knees to walk off the dance floor under his own power afterwards. One could almost feel sorry for the picture of embarrassed confusion that must have been Sato Takeshi last night -- if only one also didn't get the idea that he probably loved every illicit, forbidden, wanton second of it, as his fiancée touched him, in public in ways he was too mundane to even dream about. . .  
  
"Exactly!" Sakurako fairly cackled with glee, "He's about as shitty a dancer as you could expect, but he didn't stand a chance with me there. He was hard before the song ended!  
  
"You didn't!" Shigeru gasped.  
  
"Yup. We dumped his friends right after. Good thing I thought in advance to get a room, just in case I came across some attractive prospects. Oh man! Sato was sooo clueless! Can you believe it was his first time? But he more than compensated for his inexperience with the size of his. . .." Her last words came out as a muffled, "Mmph!" as Tsukushi clamped her hands over Sakurako's mouth.  
  
"You can't say such things so loudly!" She whispered furiously, while a bright blush rose in her cheeks.  
  
"Why not?" Sakurako inquired archly, as she pried Tsukushi's fingers off her face, "It's true, isn't it? Anyway, once I get him properly broken in, I think I'll be quite satisfied with his. . err.. endowments." She amended. "Who needs a decent conversationalist as a husband anyway? There's better things he should be using that tongue for. . " She trailed off, a scarily speculative smile twitching across her face.  
  
"Eww.. " Tsukushi cringed. Sakurako was a little overwhelming this morning. . . "Hey, I gotta run or I'll be late," She hastily apologized, "See you two later!"  
  
"Bye, Tsukushi! I'll call you later!" Shigeru shouted after her retreating figure.  
  
"Bah, I didn't even get to the real good part yet." Sakurako whined, and steered Shigeru off to a quiet corner where they could gossip in peace, without the distraction of class.  
  
-------  
  
Tsukushi had almost made it to class when she felt familiar arms reach out to pull her into a hug.  
  
"Soujiro!" She exclaimed, blushing once more, and attempting to pull away. "I'm going to be late!"  
  
"I don't care." He murmured stubbornly. He hadn't gotten to see Tsukushi since Friday night, hadn't gotten to feel her warm body pressed up against his in that comforting way of hers, in too long. He needed a Tsukushi fix. And he needed it now. He was far too lonely without the constant reassurance of her presence. It had only taken him a few short months to become an utterly dependent addict. "You didn't call yesterday." He accused softly, not understanding why Tsukushi flushed and looked away. What was she hiding? He knew there had to be something by the way she wouldn't meet his eyes.  
  
Of course, Soujiro had no way of knowing that the reason for Tsukushi's embarrassment was that she was so keyed up about what she planned; that she'd been too twitchy to call, lest she babble nervously, like some fool. Even now, she felt awkward, not wanting to give her secret away until she was ready, but unable to pretend that there wasn't Something different about her outlook on life recently.  
  
Unfortunately, while her true intent was to deepen her commitment to Soujiro, her current behavior seemed to suggest just the opposite, and Soujiro was given cause to fret, especially as he didn't know yet what, if anything had passed between her and Tsukasa this weekend. He tried to brush away his worries by indulging himself in a kiss. The wonderful yielding of Tsukushi's lips beneath his always did much to brighten his outlook. But now she only squealed in dismay,  
  
"Ah! Not in Public! What if someone sees?"  
  
Not like everyone didn't already know they were a couple. And not like they didn't have a pretty good (if totally inaccurate) view of what the relationship revolved around, but Tsukushi would be Tsukushi. With a sigh, Soujiro released his recalcitrant girlfriend, maintaining, however, his grip on her hand.  
  
"Are you busy today?" He asked hopefully. "My little brother wants to know when you're going to visit next?"  
  
"I. . can't. . ." Tsukushi stammered. This afternoon was her appointment at the doctor's. . but she wasn't going to tell him that she was going to get birth control. Not until she was ready. Still, she hated herself for the lie that replaced the truth, "I have to work until six."  
  
"OK, then," Soujiro grinned hopefully, "I'll pick you up then?"  
  
"Err. . I should go home and study. . " She began apologetically, feeling a stab of guilt pierce her at the way his face fell.  
  
"Oh." Soujiro couldn't tell, was Tsukushi rejecting him? He'd never been rejected before, so it was hard to tell. But the way she'd been acting so distant recently, and how it felt almost as though she were trying to brush him off? It could be. . .  
  
"But I'll call you if I finish early?" Tsukushi amended hastily, then realizing the time, "Shit! I'm late again! Damn it!" Freeing her hand, she ran off down the hall, muttering curses under her breath about idiots who never had to go to class.  
  
Even with Tsukushi's promise to call, Soujiro was not significantly reassured. This may have been due to the fact that he, himself was having a bit of a guilt trip at the moment, and his irritation at himself was easier to live with if he could feel like a share of the blame could fall to Tsukushi. In fact, the more he guilted himself, for his mistakes, the more he felt sure that Tsukushi must be hiding something from him as well.  
  
The reason for his nagging uncertainly and doubt was simple. Soujiro had screwed up.  
  
Again.  
  
--------  
  
It had all begun so innocently. Didn't it always? Soujiro and Akira had gone out to one of Akira's favorite bars to hang out and chill with a few drinks. Sure, it was just supposed to be the two of them hanging out, like usual. But Akira, true to his stated intentions of going back on the prowl, had started scoping out the chicks. He hadn't even officially dumped Yuki yet, but already he was looking for a new flavor. Soujiro had been left alone at the bar, nursing his drink glumly while Akira chatted up some willowy grad student at the far end of the bar.  
  
It hadn't been his fault that he was approached by this fabulously buxom redhead. He'd been blessed with good looks, and he couldn't help it if women naturally flocked to him. But honestly, he hadn't meant for anything to happen. He'd tried to be good, really he had. He'd tried to ignore this woman's sensual purr as she sat down next to him, tried to ignore the way she deliberately brushed against him, teasing him with the feather-light touch of her fingertips.  
  
Damnit! It wasn't fair! It had been almost two and a half months since Soujiro had last hooked up. Two months without sex! And this after years of being damn near immersed in the act. Sure, he'd told people he could handle abstinence. Had sworn that the only one he wanted now was Tsukushi. Had convinced himself that since with strangers, the act was meaningless he no longer wanted it. But two months was a long time! And, even if his brain said no, his body sure as hell knew what it wanted. And yeah, ok, so he had to admit, Tsukushi was letting him go further and further each week, it still wasn't enough to truly satisfy him. So he slipped up once in a while. . . He honestly didn't mean to and he regretted it every time. He was proud; so far he had managed to stay true to the promise he'd made, "No sex, until it's with Tsukushi." But definitions could be stretched pretty far. He wasn't perfect, and much as he wanted to be the man Tsukushi seemed to believe he could be, he just kept failing. . . His efforts to remain monogamous weren't made any easier by the nagging doubts he'd been having ever since they found out that Tsukasa was returning, and especially since Tsukushi had started acting so distant.  
  
Anyway, that's how it had happened. He'd been sitting there, half lost in his morose thoughts, when that chick had started in with the sympathy act. "What's wrong?" she'd cooed breathlessly, "A man like you shouldn't ever have cause to wear such a long face. Your girlfriend leave you or something?" At first, he'd been mad at this unwelcome intrusion by someone who thought they could pretend to know just what he was thinking. . . but then, he'd realized, it was true-- he had been worrying in a way, that he was losing his girl. So he sighed, and replied, "She's home studying." He must have sounded unconvincing, even to himself, because the redhead had taken this as an excuse to press those magnificent breasts of hers up against him, and coo even more sympathetically in his ear.  
  
Later, he couldn't remember a word of what she'd said, but he did remember distinctly, that somehow he'd ended up kissing her, quite passionately. Guiltily, he'd let himself imagine that it was Tsukushi who was so wantonly pressed against him, that it was Tsukushi whose hands were exploring his anatomy in a way that many would consider to be far, far too intimate for such a public place. But he knew better. Tsukushi would never act like such a slut, and he respected her far too much to treat her the way he did this bimbo.  
  
When the chick had suggested they go off and get a room, he'd regained enough sense to refuse, and though she pouted and pled he remained firm, at least in this. The nagging guilt he felt already gnawing at him, certainly helped firm his resolve now. But none of that could change the fact that once again, he'd fucked up. Even if it was just a little kiss, a little groping, it still felt like cheating. Tsukushi would certainly have called it that, if only she knew. She didn't know, however, and hopefully, she never would.  
  
Unfortunately, Akira did know. This was the third time something like this had happened, and Akira had been present all three times. It was a miracle of self-restraint that the gossipy guy hadn't even so much as hinted at these indiscretions to Tsukushi. Yet. That was always the clincher, wasn't it? There was always time to get fucked by life tomorrow.  
  
Meantime, Akira had extracted hefty payment from Soujiro for not ratting on him to Tsukushi: Soujiro wasn't allowed to complain anymore about Akira dumping Yuki. Plus, he had to promise to take on "ex-comfort duty" as Akira put it, that is, checking up on Yuki, after the breakup, soothing her ruffled feathers, and generally keeping her distracted while Akira got busy with his new woman. What a pain. But worth every minute, if Akira didn't betray him.  
  
------  
  
Soujiro sighed, as the ringing of the morning class bell brought him back to the present moment. Not that Akira's silence would do him any good if Tsukushi dumped him of her own accord.. The thought just made him more depressed, and he moodily turned and wandered out of the school building, in search of more pleasant distraction. Tsukushi wouldn't dump him! he berated himself, She couldn't possibly know about his mistakes, and She wouldn't go back to Tsukasa. No, Soujiro tried to convince himself that he was just projecting, his own guilt onto her-- but if that were the case, then why had she been so unapproachable recently?  
  
Soujiro hated not knowing. Why couldn't life ever be simple? He demanded, fists clenching at his sides. . .  
  
But, no one answered his silent plea.  
  
To be continued.  
  
~Err, yeah, curdled scratches her head. This is not where I wanted chapter to end up. But life is getting in the way, and I'm stressed out of my mind. So ummm. .. be glad I wrote anything this week even if it's not the full chapter I meant to get out? Yeah that's it. I won't be updating next week either, since that's quals. And to those who sent me emails this week, I promise I'll write back real soon now..~ 


	14. Rui makes a cameo appearance!

~Sigh, the department gave me too much time to study. So now my brain is full, and 'm bored and twitchy. I called home, and the 'rents told me to stop tooling so damn much, so I decided to take their advice. Which is why this chapter is coming out a full week before I'd planned to write it. oh joy! Not that I'm feeling the love for this fic. I get the feeling, somehow, that my readership is dwindling steadily. (curdled sniffles sadly) but that's ok, I know this fic is shitty. and someday it will be infinitely long in all its fecal-ricific splendor, instead of merely excessively tedious, as now. Isn't that something to look forward to?~  
  
-------  
  
Tsukushi heaved a sigh of relief as the lunch bell finally rang. Monday morning class was So boring! It didn't take her long to grab her lunch and flee the building, seeking a respite in the warm sunshine out on the emergency stairs. She was unsurprised to see Rui already sitting there, waiting expectantly, as he always did these days, for her to arrive. Ever since the weather had finally turned warm enough to eat outside, Tsukushi and Rui had begun meeting regularly for lunch here. Soujiro did not approve. In fact, the dark-haired boy had had to fight off considerable pangs of jealousy as he'd watched Tsukushi and Rui mending their differences. (Well, only one difference, really -- the teensy tiny problem that arose from the fact that Rui couldn't seem to surrender his love for Tsukushi, despite her adamant declaration that he could never be more than a brother to her.) But, Tsukushi had decided to pretend that Rui had gotten over her, and Rui tacitly agreed to pretend that it was purely brotherly love that made him act as her eternal defender and confidant. Sometimes. Soujiro would join them at these lunches, as if staking his claim on Tsukushi, and warning Rui to keep his hands and lips to himself. But he always felt like a third wheel-- which irked him to no end, as He was Tsukushi's boyfriend, not Rui, and so he often was not present. Today was one of those days, and Tsukushi let a light sense of relief wash through her as she settled down across from Rui.  
  
"You're blocking my sun." Was his unperturbed greeting.  
  
"Deal with it." Tsukushi stuck out her tongue at him, before sliding out of his sunbeam anyway.  
  
"You're in a good mood today. What's up?" Rui quirked an inquisitive eyebrow, "You talk to Tsukasa this weekend?"  
  
"No. . ." Tsukushi's face fell.. "I guess. .. he doesn't want to see me. I kept thinking, all Saturday, that he'd come. I could swear I felt his presence. . . but I was wrong." She shrugged, and forced a smile back on her face, "But that's life I guess. I feel bad. There's nothing I can do. So I'm not going to worry about it!" She finished determinedly.  
  
Rui merely, watched her, an unreadable expression on his face. There was point in telling her what he really thought, that she should go kick Tsukasa's sorry ass into seeing reason. She was the only one really who had ever managed to do that, and if she wasn't willing to hunt him down and yell at him until he got over his self-indulgent depression, then the idiot boy was likely to continue his childish mope for the rest of his life. That would be a true shame. But Tsukushi didn't want to hear it; she refused to be held responsible for Tsukasa's actions any more. So Rui kept his silence.  
  
"Actually. . . " Tsukushi began, a trifle uncertainly, ignoring the look on Rui's face, "I wanted to ask you a favor?"  
  
"Depends. . . What is it?" Rui teased, despite the fact that they both knew full well that he couldn't refuse her anything.  
  
"Err. . I need you to drive me somewhere after school. . . "  
  
"Sure. Where? And why didn't you ask Soujiro?" Rui was amused to see the color slowly creeping across Tsukushi's face. Interesting.  
  
"I can't ask him! I'd die of embarrassment!" Tsukushi burst out, a bit too loudly. Hastily she covered her mouth, as her cheeks burned a lovely shade of tomato.  
  
Rui scratched his head. What was so embarrassing that Tsukushi couldn't ask Soujiro, but could ask him? Knowing Tsukushi, it was probably something utterly trivial. So Rui was considerably taken aback when Tsukushi opened her mouth as if to speak, closed it again, looked around nervously, as if there were eavesdroppers hidden everywhere, and finally leaned in, still blushing, to whisper in his ear.  
  
An observer watching the two at that moment would have seen Rui's eyes widen in surprise, as well as a slight tightening of his fist, that was all the emotion the reserved boy would let himself show.  
  
". . . So please?" Tsukushi was finishing with a rapid, nervous babble, "The appointment's at two-thirty, and school gets out at two. . but I have to go to work first, and there's no way to make it on time, if I have to walk to work, and . . . I'm. . . scared to go by myself. So please! You'll come? Just to the office?"  
  
"Err. .. " Rui supposed he should be flattered that he was the one Tsukushi trusted enough to ask to accompany her to the gynecologist. Still, it was a very uncomfortable sort of honor. Not that he had a choice, really. He never had a choice where Tsukushi was concerned. "Of course I'll take you." Silently, he cursed his fate once more -- always doomed to be second fiddle to another; needed, but not loved.  
  
"Thanks!" Tsukushi beamed a relieved smile at him. She'd been so worried about getting there, not to mention worried about having to ask Rui for this favor, or worse, having to explicitly explain just why she was going . Thankfully, Rui wasn't an idiot. She didn't know what she would have done if he'd refused. Asked Akira maybe? And gods, what were the chances he could keep his mouth shut? Kazuya? Even worse, that boy would want to see the doctor with her-- just the thought made Tsukushi want to cringe in embarrassment. No, Aside from Rui, there was no one else to ask. . .  
  
------  
  
The rest of the school day seemed to flash by, and before she knew it, Tsukushi was sitting in a brightly sterile waiting room, clutching Rui's cool hand tightly, as she fretted in anticipation of an uncomfortable experience.  
  
Elsewhere, Akira and Tsukasa sat in a park. Tsukasa was sitting cross- legged on the damp ground, ignoring the moisture seeping into his jeans, as he irritably tore chunks of innocent grass from the ground.  
  
"Hey, what are you so worked up about?" Akira, sitting more sedately on a nearby bench, couldn't fathom why Tsukasa had called him here today. They'd been sitting here twenty minutes already, and Tsukasa still refused to say just what it was that had gotten him so riled up. "Is it Tsukushi?" Akira decided to go through the options in order of most to least likely.  
  
'No." It was barely a grunt. Another handful of grass died, under Tsukasa's clenched fingers.  
  
"You still haven't spoken to her, huh?" Akira sighed, "What about Shigeru?"  
  
"No." Tsukasa began shredding the pile of grass in font of him.  
  
Akira smacked his forehead in frustration, "You haven't spoken to her either? She's your goddamned fiancée! You can't avoid her forever!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You're not serious? She's a nice girl. You two might actually get along if you tried."  
  
Tsukasa stared at the shredded mess of leaves in front of him. Shigeru? Who cared about Shigeru right now? Monkey girl was perfectly capable of coping on her own. She didn't need him, and he certainly didn't want her. His gaze shifted to the now slightly inflamed cut on his knuckles, and the neatly applied band-aid that still covered it. Words were failing him, just as they always did.  
  
Akira sighed. As usual, this was getting them nowhere.  
  
"So what is the problem? Besides the fact that you refuse to speak to the two girls actually stupid enough to care about your ungrateful ass?"  
  
A long silence ensued, punctuated only by the sounds of vegetation meeting an untimely death. Finally, as if monumental effort was required to drag the words from his throat, Tsukasa spoke,  
  
"Kunisawa Amon."  
  
"Amon?" Akira was incredulous, "Your imposter? What happened, your mom hire him to take your place with Shigeru?" He really couldn't think what else Amon might have to do with anything.  
  
"No." Tsukasa rasped . Unbidden, he felt his cheeks begin to heat up. Fuck. He couldn't keep this to himself. But, even though Akira was the one person he still considered a friend. . . it wasn't easy to say. He wanted to kill something, anything for the fact that he felt this way. Angry, helpless, confused. All at once. He hated it. Hated Amon for making his already miserable life even more nonsensical. Even more, he hated the fact that a part of him, deep down in the darkest depths of his psyche, was actually Glad. Glad that something different and . . .Exciting. . . had happened to shake up the grinding monotony of dull resentment and unhappiness that was his life. Unfortunately, the more dominant part of his ego was totally disgusted with the other night's sordid events, and so Tsukasa now found himself in this predicament- - wanting to seek advice on what he should do, but at the same time, not wanting to have to admit his shame to anyone, much less to Akira. Maybe it would be simpler just to make up his mind to beat Amon to a bloody pulp on his own? Or should he ignore the event, and hope never to run into the - - clearly deranged -- older man again? Well.. . that's what he was here to ask Akira, after all. May as well get it over with . "I ran into him at this club Saturday. . . And, well. . . " Doumyouji could feel himself cringing inwardly. The great Doumyouji Tsukasa was utterly ashamed at his weakness, "The pervert kissed me!" Finally, It was out in a last angry rush of words.  
  
Akira, as one might expect, did a total double take but quickly regained his composure, and asked. "Really? Was he drunk?" He was struggling, with some success, to control the mirth that threatened to burst forth at Tsukasa's confession. This, he had not expected. The look of mortification on Doumyouji's face could only be described as utterly hilarious. Akira supposed it must have been traumatic for one so repressed as Tsukasa to be assaulted like that by an almost-stranger, but really, it was Too amusing.  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, then, did you kick his ass?" The logical thing to do, one would think.  
  
"No."  
  
Akira blinked. Surely he'd misheard. "No?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well why not?"  
  
Tsukasa fixed his friend with an angry glare, "What the fuck was I supposed to do? This Fucking pervert grabs me and kisses me! In public no less!"  
  
"Well normally," Akira replied slowly, "When someone makes unwanted advances, you smack them around. Hell, man, you've sent people to the hospital for less before. Don't tell me living in the US has addled your brains? I don't see what the problem is? " Something wasn't adding up? Why was Tsukasa telling him this anyway? And why was Tsukasa refusing to meet his eyes now? An uneasy suspicion grew in the playboy's mind, " . . Don't tell me. . . you actually enjoyed it?"  
  
"No!" Tsukasa burst out furiously, almost spitting the words out in his haste to deny, Deny, Deny, "How could I enjoy it? Fucking sick pervert! That asshole! I. . ."  
  
Akira opened his mouth to ask why, then, Tsukasa hadn't turned Amon into a sack of pulverized flesh, but the faster part of his brain alerted him to the blatantly obvious fact that Tsukasa was lying. He'd never been able to cover his feelings well, and Yup. He was distinctly not being truthful. Much as he'd always called Tsukushi flat-chested and unattractive, he was now ranting about Amon. Akira fought the urge to bury his head in his hands and sigh. For, equally obvious was the fact that Tsukasa was still unaware of his unconscious desires. Not again. How long had it taken Tsukasa to admit he liked Tsukushi? Too fucking long. He'd never admit that this Amon creep actually . . Eww. . . Akira winced at the bad, bad, bad images that suddenly went shooting through his brain. The idea of Tsukasa and his twin going at it.. . Shit!  
  
In the background, Tsukasa was flaming on, but Akira was paying no attention, due to he images his fertile and too-worldly brain kept sending him. Gah! Akira twitched himself back to reality after a particularly disturbing and twisted image of Tsukasa-doppelganger sex flashed before his eyes.  
  
On the other hand. . . Hadn't Soujiro mentioned something yesterday about how sex, any sex, might help to loosen Tsukasa up? The boy needed to get laid, and any way it happened was bloody good enough. And since, right now the only other option was Shigeru, whose existence Tsukasa seemed to be vehemently denying. . . . Hmm. . . Akira decided it might be time for a little creative intervention.  
  
"You know. . ." he began thoughtfully, interrupting Tsukasa in mid-rant. "It's not all bad. . ."  
  
"What?" Tsukasa exhaled sharply, as he stared at his friend in sudden confusion.  
  
"Sex with guys." Akira shrugged, with elaborate casualness.  
  
"Wha. . .?"  
  
"That is what we're talking about? Yes?"  
  
"Err. . ."  
  
"Right then." Akira took that for a yes. "It's not that bad, really. Not as good as with girls -- girls have much nicer curves. . . and softer skin. . . "  
  
"How the bloody fuck would you know?" Tsukasa exploded incredulously.  
  
"How else does one learn these things?" Akira snorted, "We tried it."  
  
"You're lying. When? Who? Why?" Tsukasa simply couldn't believe that Akira, master-playboy and lover of mature women extraordinaire would ever do such a thing. It had to be some sort of trick. But why?  
  
"Well. . ." Akira paused and stretched, "You know, back when Soujiro and I first started picking up chicks? How old were we then? 13? 14? Well, it doesn't matter. Anyway. So, at first, we found that it was easy to get a girl to come to bed with us, but you know. . Back then. . We didn't really know how to give them what they really wanted. Hell, man. It takes years of practice to become a lover as skilled as I am." OK, so he was bragging a bit, but it was true, aside from Soujiro, he had got to be one of the best sexual athletes in Tokyo. "So, well. . . We thought before we embarrassed ourselves further, it'd be a good idea to get some practice. . . And who better to practice with than your best friend?" Akira grinned, "Man, we were such kids! But it worked. We took a break from the clubs for a while, and the next time we went back. . . .Hot damn, We've never disappointed a woman since then. So see. . . Like I said, it's not all bad. . . " Akira was quite pleased with himself for that little story.  
  
"That's . .. That's . . Disgusting!" Doumyouji was dumbstruck. His friends. . . were perverts? And one of them was dating Tsukushi? He felt sick.  
  
"Dude, dude. Calm the fuck down." Akira soothed. "We were just kids. It didn't mean anything. Just a bit of harmless fun. No one got hurt. Hell, I think there's a lot of women out there who are very grateful for our skillz!"  
  
"I. . I can't handle this. . " Doumyouji muttered. Plainly, talking to Akira had been a huge and dreadful mistake. He should have known his lecherous friend would have some depraved story for any situation. But Soujiro and Akira? Gah. Tsukasa shuddered. No. He Was Not going to think about it. He was going to go home and pretend that this little conversation, much like the events of Saturday night, had never happened. Still twitching slightly, he stumbled to his feet and lurched way, leaving a softly laughing Akira to watch his retreating back.  
  
"I do hope he never checks up on the truth of that story." Akira mused, Not that Tsukasa was speaking to Soujiro. But if he did. .. things might get ugly very, very quickly.  
  
Eh, Tsukasa would probably be too freaked to question Soujiro. Akira decided not to worry about it. After all, he had more important things to do this afternoon. He had a girlfriend to dump and a widow to meet for dinner. But first, he should fortify himself with a drink. Whistling a cheerful tune, Akira stood up and headed in the opposite direction from that which Tsukasa had taken.  
  
To be continued. . . 


	15. Shigeru makes a discovery

After school let out for the day, Shigeru went shopping again. After all, when everything else was failing to go your way, why not take refuge in the glorious self-indulgence of a big spending spree? Shigeru Absolutely Adored expensive boutiques, the frenzied hustle and bustle of the mall. It was exhilarating to rampage through the racks in search of The perfect outfit. But, for some reason, almost no one ever wanted to shop with her. She was never quite sure why. Sakurako always claimed she had more important things to do, like fix her hair, and the boys? Oh god, she'd tried to convince Akira and Soujiro to go with her -- after all, they were way into looking as styling as humanly possible. But no. They'd go to one store, try on a few items and go home! They had no stamina; they just couldn't keep up! They couldn't even manage to carry her packages without getting utterly exhausted after four steps. So Lame! Only Tsukushi was willing to accompany her. Tsukushi understood the urge to shop, even if she couldn't afford to buy nearly as much as Shigeru. And the stubborn girl wouldn't let Shigeru buy her hardly anything! Plus, Tsukushi always had to work. Life could be so unfair. In the Meantime, Shigeru shopped alone.  
  
"Tsukushi would just love these pants!" Shigeru exclaimed out loud at one boutique, startling the other, more quiet patrons with her exuberance. Ignoring their silent stares, she continued talking to herself, "But she'll be pissed off if I just buy them for her? Should I call and ask? What if she's busy with the doctor?" Shigeru dithered for a few minutes, then shrugged and went for her cell phone. She hadn't checked messages since before she'd lost her phone on Friday, and now she was surprised to find only one text message waiting for her. "What? No one even calls me any more?" She moaned, and opened the message. It wasn't even for her! Wide- eyed, she read,  
  
"Makino, my number is. . ." followed by a phone number and an address.  
  
Shigeru blinked. Who could have left a message for Tsukushi, and why was it on her phone?  
  
A sudden spurt of intuition hit Shigeru like a bucket of icy water. It must have been Amon. He must've left a message on hr phone after he'd found it at the bar. But why? Presumably, he'd told Tsukushi to get the message, but she'd forgotten? Or maybe she just hadn't wanted to read it? Shigeru started at her phone, all thoughts of calling Tsukushi momentarily forgotten. Here was the opportunity for an adventure presenting itself. Excitement and danger just waiting to happen! Her pulse began to speed at the delicious thought. Tsukushi had told her that Amon was dangerous, unpredictable, and violent, but with the potential to be deeply caring and considerate. At least where Tsukushi had been concerned. It only made Shigeru want to learn more. Amon sounded so much like Tsukasa, yet not quite. Shigeru wanted to learn all she could, wanted to make this man, at least, her friend, or her lover, even if she could never get that close to the original-- her eventual husband. So now, presented with the perfect opportunity, how could she resist? It was even better than the thrill of swiping her platinum card and walking away with five new dresses!  
  
Clinging to this impulse with the enthusiasm of a two year old, Shigeru bounded out of the store, all thoughts of shopping forgotten. Should she call Amon? Should she just show up at his place? What would he think? What would he say? Despite his cool rebuff of the other night, she was sure she could get him to warm up, given time. Maybe. . . Ok, probably, most likely, definitely, offering him money to sleep with her had been the wrong approach. But, if she couldn't have Tsukasa loving her, she was sure as hell going to try her best with his imposter. After all, It wasn't really cheating if she saw Tsukasa in her mind's eye every time she pictured Amon, was it? "Just like having a body double! Really!" she reassured herself cheerfully, "I'm not going to lose this one."  
  
Thus, with a great deal of optimistic determination, the bubbly blonde set of for the slummy area in which Amon resided.  
  
---------  
  
Amon sat at his kitchen table sipping a steaming cup of black coffee. He'd pulled an all-nighter last night studying for his final this morning. Now, he was really fucking tired. He thought he'd done adequately on the exam, but honestly, at this point, as long as he passed, he didn't care. One more exam left this week, and then he'd be done with college for ever. And good riddance! Now, if only he actually had a decent plan, he'd be so much better off. He wasn't the type to become a brown-nosed corporate lackey, but waiting tables and tending bar weren't exactly a long term career goal either. No matter how good the money was, he hadn't spent four years in college just to work in the service industry the rest of his life!  
  
Amon glared into his coffee. Right. The lack of sleep was definitely making him grumpy. Not to mention the fact that he had to work tonight, or the fact that he hadn't been able to get Doumyouji out of his mind all weekend. Those deep, mournful eyes haunted his dreams. The loss and pained confusion in the boy's harsh voice, each time he spoke. . . Amon imagined it all, even the delightful way Tsukasa would bristle with rage at every taunt and every gibe. The boy wore his heart on his sleeve, easy to read as a child -- but all the more delightful him being a grown man. Amon could almost see the child-like delight and wonder Tsukasa would be capable of showing, provided with the right stimuli. He wanted to witness it for himself. He wanted to shake Tsukasa out of his stupor. Make him Feel. Anger. Joy. Anything other than the melancholy rut Tsukasa had dug himself into. Amon wanted to see Tsukasa's eyes glow with lust, to feel his hot breath on his skin, feel the boy pinned against him in something other than anger. . . and a whole lot more fun.  
  
With a start, Amon shook himself more fully awake. Damn it! His coffee was getting cold. This was not the time to be daydreaming about potential conquests or enemies, however you wanted to define Tsukasa. Amon realized his obsession with his lookalike was growing in a most unhealthy fashion, but he couldn't quite bring himself to put the other boy out of his mind yet. Maybe it was just hormones, he reasoned.. "If I go screw something, end this dreary dry spell, then I'll realize how silly this all is." That was probably it, Amon decided. Too long without sex, combined with an old jealousy roused by seeing Makino again. Really, that's all it was, nothing personal at all.  
  
Even he couldn't totally convince himself. But maybe, the getting laid thing as worth a shot anyway. Hell, it couldn't hurt. There were always some hot and eager bodies around the club. He'd grab one of those on the way home tonight, if he wasn't too exhausted by then And by tomorrow, he'd be fine again. Yup. Great Plan.  
  
Amon gulped the rest of his coffee and was about to dig up the text for his last exam, when the doorbell rang.  
  
Curiously, for he wasn't expecting anyone, Amon buzzed whomever it was up, not bothering to even ask was down there. After all, nothing bad could visit this time of day, right?  
  
He couldn't have been more wrong.  
  
Truly, the sight of Shigeru standing in his doorway, bright-eyed and cheerful, sent a tingle of warning through his spine. Oh no. The Girl from Friday Night. Tsukushi's friend. Tsukasa's Fiancee. This was not good. Not good at all.  
  
To be continued.  
  
~hey, short chapter today. But the next should be out soon. Like tomorrow. And what do you mean this isn't normal romance? I only write the sorts of things I'm familiar with. . .~ 


	16. Amon makes a discovery

"What are you doing here?" Amon asked bluntly.  
  
"Visiting." Shigeru chirped brightly. "You left your address in my phone, see?" she held up the evidence.  
  
"That was for Makino."  
  
"It was on my phone." Shigeru shrugged and pushed past him into the apartment. Amon just stood there gaping, as Shigeru looked around. How had he lost control of the situation so quickly?  
  
"Wow!" Shigeru poked her head out of the bathroom. "This place is almost as small as Tsukushi's! At least you have a shower, though."  
  
"Why are you here?" Amon tried again, numbly letting the door fall shut, since it didn't look like this girl would be easy to dislodge anytime soon.  
  
"I told you! I'm visiting." Shigeru laughed, "Hey, did you know the food in your fridge is moldy? Ewww. . ."  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" Amon stalked into the kitchen, "Get out of my stuff."  
  
"No." Shigeru stuck out her tongue, and began flipping through the books piled on the table, "Medieval literature? Ugh. Why are you reading that?"  
  
Amon sighed and slumped at the table. Absently he reached out to slam the textbook closed.  
  
"Hey! Watch the fingers!" And Shigeru was off again. "So you live alone? This is a bachelor pad, right? I've never been in one of these before. This is so cool. Hey, you should clean more often. This place is a mess. . . ."  
  
Amon felt the beginning throbs of a headache start to grow behind his eyes. "Shut Up!" he roared. "What the hell do you want from me?"  
  
"Oh?" Shigeru popped her head back into the kitchen, "I thought I told you already? I want you to make love to me."  
  
"And I thought I told you no." Amon growled in exasperation, "Or were you too drunk to remember that part of the conversation?"  
  
"Oh No. I remember perfectly!" Shigeru denied, "But, you might've changed your mind. Besides, you were working then, so you might've said no just because you were busy." She smiled hopefully. He cheerful façade masking any nervousness she actually felt at being so forward.  
  
Amon sighed again. Stubborn girl. "I'll repeat myself then. Little girl, go home to your fiancé. You're too young for me."  
  
"I'm older than Tsukushi." Shigeru lifted her head defiantly, "And you wanted her." She realized she'd hit a nerve as Amon's face darkened. Suddenly this girl was just pissing him off. Why was he being so nice to her anyway? What did he care if she was making a big mistake by pursuing him? It was her choice, and only she'd regret the consequences.  
  
Amon took a deep breath to calm himself before he lashed out at the girl standing before him. Fine then. This little girl thought she knew what he was; thought she knew what she wanted. Stupid slut like all the others. He'd show her just what she knew. Amon snorted softly to himself, and maybe, just maybe, this'd help work thoughts of Doumyouji out of his own system. Before Shigeru could react, Amon was out of his seat, pinning her to the walls, fingers gripping her arms with bruising force.  
  
"Is this really what you want?" His voice sounded harshly in her ear, giving her one final chance to back out and leave the apartment untouched.  
  
Taken aback by the sudden reversal, all Shigeru could do was nod helplessly, "Y. . Yes." She stammered, before Amon's lips came crashing down on hers.  
  
Roughly, Amon pressed the girl against the wall, his hips pinning her in place, while one arm held her hands above her head and the other worked its way up under her blouse in search of the soft texture of skin.  
  
Shigeru was swept away in a whirlwind of sensation as Amon kissed her. This was almost how she'd always imagined Tsukasa to be like-- violent, rough, and demanding. Amon was like some untamed beast, taking what he wanted, no time for civilities. Her pulse quickened still further as his fingers dug into her wrists, as his nails rasped down her back. Meanwhile Amon deepened the kiss still further, probing every sensual centimeter of her mouth-- nipping at her lips, pain and pleasure mixing together, each heightening the other. . . . All of this combined with the lingering sensation that somehow, despite it all, he was toying with her, mocking her for her childish belief that he could give her what she most craved.  
  
Shigeru didn't care. It was all so new, so intense, so. . . exhilarating. It was all she could do to not cry out Tsukasa's name as Amon's mouth left hers to travel hotly down her neck. . .  
  
. .. And somehow, it was all a blur how some short time later, she found herself naked on Amon's bed; a trail of clothes littering the path to the kitchen. It was all so fast, each new sensation washing over her. She wanted to remember it all, savor each moment that she had, each second in which she could maintain the pretense that his was not some stranger, but Tsukasa-- her strong, violent fiancé whom she was allowing, no -- demanding, that he take her to a place she'd never been before. This is not to say that she felt no unease. Oh No. She knew what she was doing would most likely get her in trouble. But only if she got caught. And who was going to catch her? Who was even going to suspect a thing? Anyone who saw her with Amon would be sure it was Tsukasa. No, her more immediate concern, albeit a very silly one, was that she hadn't the faintest idea what it was she was supposed to be doing throughout this exercise? She'd never had a boyfriend before, unless you counted that one previous attempt with Tsukasa. So, while she knew she wanted sex, knew that Tab 'P' inserted into slot 'V', as it were, knew that lips were meant for kissing and all, she had no idea what else was proper procedure. Where did her hands go? Was it ok to help Amon remove his clothes? He'd certainly got hers off without any help. She didn't think. . no wait. . she actually wasn't certain, how they'd gotten them off, merely that they were gone. . . Well, Amon seemed well enough in control, maybe he wouldn't notice if she screwed up? She couldn't quite bring herself to put her arms around the man crouching over her. . . Oh look, he'd shed his pants, when did that happen?  
  
Uncertainly, Shigeru fisted her hands in the sheets at her sides and eyed the man above her, wondering just how it would feel to have that. . . thing inside her; wondering how it might compare to Tsukasa's. . . deciding it didn't matter; she didn't have Tsukasa. This was good enough. Blushing at the fact she was making such imaginary comparisons in the first place. . .losing her train of thought entirely as Amon took his time, capturing her mouth in another searing kiss, even as his hands caressed her exposed body.  
  
-----  
  
Gods! It had been a long time. Amon surprised himself with the intensity with which he'd first cornered Shigeru in the kitchen He must have been hornier than he'd thought. The girl, so pliant against him, seemingly content with the way he pushed her around. She responded with energy and enthusiasm to his kiss, even going so far as to probe his mouth with her own teasing tongue. Amon could hear her panting, the pounding of her pulse as he nipped at her and scratched her with his nails. So she liked it rough, eh? Good. That was what he was in the mood for, now. Hard and Rough. . .  
  
But something was nagging at the back of his brain, trying to tell him that something was not quite right. He could almost feel it, like a word you know, quivering at the tip of your tongue, that refuses to be spoken. His sense of unease grew as he maneuvered Shigeru towards his bedroom, divesting her of her blouse, her bra, her skirt, those sexy lace panties. . . And finally, just moments before he would have taken her, as his hungry lips devoured her skin, and as his hand was skimming its way along her upper thigh, he realized just what it was that didn't seem right.  
  
"Oh hell." He thought, and froze. And glared down at the nubile, naked girl beneath him, who as now looking back at him in some confusion.  
  
"Why did you stop?" Shigeru asked, hardly able to meet his fiery gaze.  
  
"You've never done this before, have you?" Amon accused, his voice grown icily cold, as if to belie the heat burning in his eyes.  
  
"Errr. .. No. . . not really. . " Shigeru was too surprised to even dream of lying. But she really didn't expect it when Amon gave a disgusted grunt and immediately flipped off the bed.  
  
"Put your clothes on." He hurled a handful of clothes off the floor at the stunned girl, while he, himself yanked his jeans back on, and stalked off to the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. Shigeru was left alone to stare at the door in stunned silence, wondering what the hell had just happened.  
  
TBC. . . . 


	17. an unholy alliance

~ Ever had one of those weeks, when you wonder just what in hell you're babbling about? Well, I'm having one of them. Is the plot really that confusing? I don't even know. It makes sense to me. But then, I'm used to my own babbling (It does help if you read all the chapters though, in order. And for those who are still confused, here's cm's special-deluxe uber plot summary: "So, like there are these people, and they're like totally having these interpersonal issues and shit, and like, they misinterpret stuff, and do stupid things and change their minds a lot, 'cause that's like what people do". I'm really starting to hate this fic, ya know?. Right, then, on with the 'story' . . .~  
  
Amon was furious. Not only had he failed to relieve his sexual frustration, but now he had a new problem, in the form of a very confused Shigeru, to deal with. Godfuckingdamnit. He should have realized something was wrong sooner. He just didn't DO virgins. Too much fucking trouble. And so not worth it. They cried, they moaned, they had way the hell too many unrealistic expectations. And then, they were bound to think that just 'cause you fucked them, it meant you loved them, or some such nonsense. And most of the time, they weren't even that good in bed. No, No, it was not worth the trouble of having to extricate himself from a clingy girl who thought that one fling meant he was interested in a long term commitment. Oh god No! That was the last thing he wanted.  
  
So it was understandable, in his own mind at least, why Amon was so pissed off. Here he was, just trying to work out some sexual tension with a girl who presents herself as being a sort of thrill seeker, out to expand her sexual repertoire by screwing a guy who reminds her of her fiance. Now that's kinky. That's not usually the sort of thing some dumb-ass virgin girl tends to come up with. So how was he supposed to know she wasn't what she pretended to be?  
  
Rationally, Amon knew, somewhere deep inside, that Shigeru hadn't actually pretended to anything, that it was just his own assumptions that had obscured his view. but, for a normal person, they had been totally reasonable assumptions to make. Too bad Shigeru wasn't reasonable for a person of her age and class.  
  
Amon kicked angrily at the kitchen table as he paced the kitchen. Bare- chested, and barefooted, he fumed. This little escapade had been supposed to help him relax, to get Doumyouji off his mind, and now it was turning out to be anything but relaxing. Grimacing, Amon went about brewing up a fresh cup of coffee to help settle his mind. What to do about that girl? He wasn't going to fuck her now. No matter how she begged.  
  
As Amon calmed down, he began to think that this was all life's little joke on him. He should never ever have become involved in the Doumyouji family's affairs. This current adventure was beginning to feel like punishment for his involvement with Tsukushi so long ago. Then, he'd tried, at first, to pull the very stunt that Shigeru wanted from him now -- the whole, "hey, if it looks like Tsukasa and acts like Tsukasa, then it may as well be Tsukasa," trick. But even Tsukushi hadn't been dumb enough to fall for it. Now, this foolish Shigeru girl wanted to pretend exactly that. It was obvious. And he would have been willing to indulge her. . . just this once.. . . but only if she'd been the stupid sort of slut he'd taken her for. Instead, he was forced to revise his opinion of her down from just plain, 'lonely and dumb' to 'stupid, naïve, innocent, impulsive, horny, and lonely' -- an explosive combination in the best of times, and not one he was particularly willing to deal with. . .  
  
. . . Except, that now, she was in his bedroom, and he didn't really have a choice but to deal with her. With a heavy sigh, Amon stood up again, and, snagging the discarded blouse that still lay limply on the kitchen floor, went to go see about his unwanted guest.  
  
Shigeru lay curled up where he'd left her, still naked on the bed. She'd been crying. Amon hated it when women cried. It always made him feel obscurely guilty, even when he'd done nothing wrong, and he hated having his emotions manipulated like that, when it was he who should be the one in control.  
  
Shigeru looked up when she saw Amon enter the room. His abrupt and completely unexpected rejection had hurt her more than she'd ever thought it could, once she'd gotten over her initial shock and confusion, and now she just couldn't stop crying. It all had seemed to be going so well, and then, POOF! Like that, he was gone. She'd found herself shaking with the shame of it all. Now he was back, still with that furious look in his eyes, as if he'd just been the one left betrayed and disappointed, and not her. Smothering her continued sniffling with a shaky hand, she dared ask,  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't do virgins." Amon replied stonily.  
  
"I should have lied." Shigeru muttered bitterly.  
  
"I would have known anyway." Amon leaned back against the door, folding his arms across his chest, Shigeru's blouse still hanging like some sad banner from one finger.  
  
"How?"  
  
Amon shrugged in dismissal, "You didn't know what to do. You wanted me, but you were afraid to touch. Or to lead. It didn't make sense, after you barged in here, so blatantly."  
  
Shigeru shuddered as his cold eyes seemed to bore through her naked flesh, and his almost pedantic tone seemed to cause the last remaining shreds of her self-esteem and self-confidence to shrivel up and die. Miserably, she glared weakly back at him, ignoring the fact that she still wasn't wearing any clothes. "What difference, does it make?" She demanded, "It doesn't mean anything. If I wasn't good enough, then show me what I should be doing."  
  
Amon shook his head, "It doesn't work like that. I already told you. I don't do virgins. Now, are you going to get dressed, or am I going to have to pitch you out on the street as you are?"  
  
Shigeru mustered the last reserves of her resolve. She may have lost the battle, but she'd come so close; there was no way that this war was over yet. She could admit defeat now, and come up with a new strategy later. But first, "So, you're saying that if I went out, hooked up with the first guy who came along, and then came back, then we could, ah, take up where we left off?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You're too desperate." Amon tossed Shigeru her shirt, "And far too much trouble. What's in it for me? I can find chicks who are a better lay than you just by walking down the street." Well, so maybe that wasn't quite true. For, while Shigeru had been obviously inexperienced, she was, nevertheless enthusiastic and eager, and liked to play rough, and that counted for a lot in a world where most people liked their sex polite, civil, tame, and utterly dull (by Amon's standards at least). But Amon wasn't about to tell Shigeru that. Instead, he turned his back again, and left the room, calling back over his shoulder as he left, "We can talk more when you're dressed." He hadn't meant to say that, but as he'd turned to leave, a sudden inspiration had struck him, and if Shigeru agreed to the proposition that had just entered his mind, the results could be more interesting than either of them had bargained for.  
  
A few minutes later, a considerably calmer, but still sad-looking Shigeru joined him in the kitchen. Amon waved her to a seat at the table, and poured the girl an extra-strong cup of coffee. He was already on his third cup of the afternoon, fifth cup of the day. Was it any wonder he was on edge?  
  
Shigeru sipped her coffee, and promptly made a face, "Ugh. How can you drink this?"  
  
"It's good for you." Amon said steadily, intrigued, despite himself, by the many transformations Shigeru seemed capable of going through in just a few minutes' time.  
  
"So, what else is here to say?" Shigeru made another attempt to take on the coffee, and failing to adapt to the taste, busied her mouth with words instead, "I'm not giving up. I said I wanted you to make love to me, and I still mean it. You can't scare me off so easily. I'll pester you at work, I'll follow you. I'll call you as often as it takes. I'm not going to lose."  
  
"You really are stubborn, aren't you?" Amon allowed himself an admiring chuckle, "But I've got a counteroffer for you."  
  
"Huh?" Shigeru looked at him blankly, "What do you mean?"  
  
"It's simple really, " Amon leaned back in his chair, and lifted his lips in an ironic half-smile, "We both really want the same thing."  
  
"We do?" Shigeru was confused.  
  
"Yes." Amon let the ensuing expectant silence drag on for a few minutes, while Shigeru fidgeted, before bursting out with her next exclamation.  
  
"Well, what do you mean? You said you wouldn't sleep with me, so. . ."  
  
Amon cut her off with a sharp laugh, "That's not what you really want and you know it. What you really want. . . is Doumyouji Tsukasa."  
  
"Huh? . . But. . . What?"  
  
"You want Doumyouji." Amon explained, "We can agree on that, right?" At her nod, he continued, "I want Doumyouji, too. Simple, really."  
  
All Shigeru could do was sit and blink in utter astonishment, as Amon continued. "So what I propose is this, I help you with him, and you help me. And if I score, and you don't, then I'll make it up to you in bed."  
  
"But. . ."  
  
"Surely, you don't mind sharing? It's not like I want him for anything long- term. You're the one who's got to marry the boy, I just want to fuck his brains out." Amon thought that blunt was best, given the glassy-eyed incomprehension Shigeru was manifesting.  
  
"But Why?" Shigeru managed to stammer at last.  
  
Amon shrugged, "Why not? He interests me."  
  
"But you're a guy."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Oh." Shigeru sat numbly, trying to rally her few remaining functional brain cells into putting together one rational thought, "How, umm, would this . . . partnership work?" Inwardly she was violently chastising herself for even considering this deal. Really, what was she thinking? Life was already complicated enough, without this. . . this. . .she didn't even know what to call it. . .  
  
"We'll find a way." Already, Amon's devious mind was churning out angles of attack. With a partner in crime, the pursuit would be easier. Tsukasa would be a tough nut to crack, but Amon loved a challenge, and if he couldn't rid himself of the fantasies of Doumyouji that haunted him, at the very least he could try to fulfill them. And if they could be realized, with Shigeru's help, then so be it. Her price was a small one to pay. "So, do we have a deal?" Amon lifted an eyebrow as he regarded the girl across the table from himself. This afternoon, he'd gone from frustrated dreams of Tsukasa, to passionate pursuit of pleasure, to more sexual frustration, only to end up here, at a crossroads that could lead the both of them to the desired reward, or that could lead them deeper into a hell of their mutual creation. Who could say if it was a mistake to be sitting here now discussing seduction plans with a confused girl? Would it have been better to have stayed in bed with her, screwing her until they both were senseless? Or, would it have been best to never have seen her face on this day? Amon didn't know. Nor, at this moment, did he much care. He had a dream, an ally, and a plan. If nothing else, the attempt would provide some amusement for this cynical, lonely man.  
  
At that moment, Amon had no way of knowing that the impending adventure might actually teach him to believe in the existence of love.  
  
But, as Shigeru nodded, and extended her hand to shake on this devil's bargain, the wheels of fate were set into motion; an inexorable machine that would soon plunge them all into their awaited, yet unexpected future.  
  
TBC. . .  
  
~I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I don't care. It doesn't simplify the plot any now, does it? Next time: Soujiro gets a scene! But so does Rui! Oh no! tensions rise! And what of poor Yuki? (and, oh, hey, is ff.net acting weird for anyone else? I've been trying to upload this chapter for days, and failing. .)~ 


	18. Meanwhile

~And Now it's time to switch to our other plotline for a few chapters, Oh Happiness and Joy!~  
  
Akira hurried out of the Happy Noodle café, a grimace spreading across his handsome features. That hadn't gone well. He'd thought Yuki would have reacted much more calmly than she had. He had been entirely unprepared for the flood of tears that ensued after his gentle pronouncement that he thought it best if they started seeing other people. First she'd sniffled, her blue eyes going suddenly wide and watery, and then the floods had begun. Sure, he'd hugged her, told her that it didn't mean he thought any less of her as a person; that he wanted them to still be friends -- you know, the usual soft-parting bullshit. But it hadn't seemed to help. Yuki had just cried all the harder.  
  
Dimly, Akira remembered something Tsukushi had said once-- how Yuki was a real cry-baby. He'd never noticed before; she'd always been so cheerful when he was around, but now he was getting the chance to observe firsthand. Not exactly the most pleasant way to spend the afternoon; not when he knew he as the cause of it. Good thing he'd thought to put a few drinks into his system first. It was easier to remain mellow when floating in alcohol's warm embrace.  
  
Unfortunately, by now, he'd spent way too much time drying Yuki's eyes, and if he didn't hurry, he was going to be late for his dinner date.  
  
Akira flipped out his cellphone as he walked. It was time for Soujiro to repay Akira's silence for all his misdemeanors. Besides. Soujiro and Yuki were friends. It should be no problem for him to come keep her company this evening-- you know, tell her jokes, make her smile, charm her into forgetting that she was unhappy, for a few hours at least. Hell, he and Tsukushi could act as a team to comfort Yuki. They'd be fine. And Akira'd be free to get on with his date.  
  
"Yo?" Soujiro answered his phone impatiently. He was waiting for Tsukushi to get off work, and the wait was making him irritable.  
  
"Yo, dude. You've got distraction duty. Like now."  
  
"What?"  
  
'You heard me. You totally owe me man. Get your ass to the Happy Noodle café pronto before the dam bursts again."  
  
"You're such a jerk." Soujiro accused half-heartedly.  
  
"Yeah, like you've never dumped a girl in your life. Not to mention cheating on your girlfriend. Even I don't do that. So don't act so high and mighty. Yuki needs a friend now. You're free. Go be her friend. Hell, you'd do it if I didn't tell you to, wouldn't you? So go."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Soujiro muttered, "You gonna introduce me to your new lady later?"  
  
"Sure dude, if I keep her past tonight."  
  
"Right." Soujiro laughed. It almost sounded like old times, when he and Akira would compete to see who could find the best lay, back before Soujiro had tried to outgrow the worthless dissipation of his feckless youth. Nostalgia for the illusory good times that he and Akira had once shared washed over Soujiro as he clicked his phone shut. He'd have to hurry if he wanted to catch Yuki before she went home, but first, he should call Tsukushi at work and tell her where to meet them later.  
  
"Hello?" A friendly voice greeted his call. He'd had to call her work phone, as she always turned her cell off when she was waiting tables. In the background, Soujiro could hear the sounds of noisy kitchen bustle; sizzling sounds from the grill, and orders being shouted out. He cringed; it was amazing that Tsukushi could stand to work in such a place.  
  
"Yes. Hi. Is Makino there, please?" he asked smoothly, using the voice that could charm even the deadest stone into doing anything he requested. So, he was rather shocked when the woman on the other end of the line replied in the negative.  
  
"I'm sorry sir, but that's not possible, she's not here right now."  
  
"What? Isn't she working today?" She'd said she was working this afternoon. Soujiro remembered it distinctly.  
  
"Oh yes," The girl giggled, "but she came in all flustered-looking right after school, and said she needed to take a few hours off. She should be back around five, though."  
  
"Did she say where she was going?" Soujiro continued to ooze charm over the phone as he tried to determine where that perverse girl had gotten off to.  
  
"Oh no." the girl giggled again, "But she didn't need to say anything. I mean, she came in with one of the hottest guys I've ever seen. So cute! I'd skip work if I had a guy like that too!" she babbled on, heedless of the sudden stony silence on the other end of the line, "You should've seen the look in his eye! You could totally tell that guy was crazy about her. Tsukushi is soo lucky! What I wouldn't give to have a guy like that holding my hand!"  
  
"Oh." Was all Soujiro could utter through numb lips.  
  
"Oops!" The girl giggled again, "I have to get back to work, would you like to leave a message for Tsukushi?"  
  
"That won't be necessary." Soujiro knew he sounded grim, but how else to sound, when Tsukushi had lied to him? And gods only knew who she was with? Was it Rui? Or had she made amends with Tsukasa, and even now was sneaking out around town with him? Either possibility sent jealous pains stabbing through his soul, reminding him of the loneliness creeping back into his life.  
  
"Should I at least tell her who is calling?" the girl persisted.  
  
"No one. No one at all." Soujiro hung up before the girl could reply. Already, a familiar cold ache was gnawing at his chest. If he couldn't even trust Tsukushi, then who could he trust. If she stopped loving him, then who else ever would?  
  
Soujiro fought hard to recover his equilibrium as he made his way to the café where Akira had left Yuki. He told himself it was all just imagination, fueled by his own sense of guilt. But it was hard, oh so hard, to deny the truth that Tsukushi had lied to him about her work, and was even now, out somewhere enjoying the company of one of his rivals. And who knew better than Soujiro, just how much more worthy those two were of Tsukushi's love than he, himself, was?  
  
--------  
  
Elsewhere in Tokyo, Rui and Tsukushi sat in another cozy café. Tsukushi was blushing and clutching a steaming cup of tea, while Rui looked on, amusement evident in his placid eyes.  
  
"Was it really that bad?" he inquired gently. They'd only just got out of the doctor's office, with a quick stop at the nearest pharmacy, and Tsukushi hadn't stopped blushing since.  
  
"Oh god. It was worse." Tsukushi cringed at the memory.  
  
"But you got what you came for?"  
  
"Oh yes." Again, Tsukushi refused to meet his eyes, her hands twisting nervously together under his scrutiny.  
  
Rui reached out across the table to cover her hands with his own, "Calm down, you'll be fine." He smiled reassuringly.  
  
"You think so? I'm not making a mistake am I?"  
  
"No. Of course not." Inwardly, Rui winced. He only told her what she needed to hear, not what he wanted for her at all. But if it made her happy, how could he refuse? And his reward was this, her brilliant smile, directed at him; it only made his heart melt more. It was like some addictive drug, he never could get enough. "Have you taken the first one yet?"  
  
Tsukushi shook her head, "Should I?"  
  
"Yes." Rui gave her hand a squeeze, before Tsukushi freed it to go rummage through her purse. Laying the pill-case upon the table, she eyed it skeptically, as if it were some dangerous animal waiting to attack her. "Relax," Rui urged, "Just taking them doesn't commit you to anything. You haven't even told Soujiro yet, have you?"  
  
Mutely, Tsukushi shook her head.  
  
"You should." Rui reprimanded.  
  
At this, Tsukushi only blushed more deeply, "I. . .I couldn't!" she blurted, "I'm not ready!"  
  
"Take your time," Rui soothed, as if calming a nervous bird. Tsukushi smiled gratefully at him once more, and, with nervous fingers brought the tiny capsule to her lips. With a gulp, she swallowed the first pill, all the while watched by Rui's unwavering gaze. "Good girl." Rui smiled at last, and stood up from the table.  
  
"Rui. . ." Tsukushi murmured.  
  
"Yes"  
  
"Thank you for being with me."  
  
"My pleasure." Rui bent down to press his lips to her cheek; a kiss they both liked to pretend was purely brotherly in nature, although, in their hearts, both knew differently. To himself, Rui murmured darkly as he walked away, "Soujiro better appreciate Makino's present. Or I'll kill him myself." Though he still found it hard to understand Tsukushi's attitude towards sex, he understood that such a step did bother her, and that for her to willingly, and of her own initiative, undertake to prepare for it, spoke volumes about her commitment to her current love. He could only hope that she wasn't making a terrible mistake. If only he wasn't so biased against Soujiro by his own feelings of jealousy and rejection, then at least he might be able to make a better judgement as to the true stakes of the situation. But as it was, all he could do was wait, and worry, and pray.  
  
To be continued. 


	19. you knew it was coming

~~~Happy birthday to me! Oh fuck, I'm old. Of course trouble's coming, when was life ever simple? No one ever said there'd be a happy ending anywhere down the line. . . You so know where this is going, don't you? ~~~

----------

__

I'm shying from the light

I've always loved the night

And now you offer me eternal darkness. . .

Soujiro sat across from Yuki at the Happy Noodle café, watching the blonde girl sniffle miserably into her soda.

"I'm sorry to be such a bother." Yuki murmured through the haze of her tears.

"Oh, don't worry about it!" Soujiro waved her apology away, "What else are friends for?"

"Still. . ." I shouldn't be such a whiner." Yuki tried to gather her composure back around herself, "After all, it's not like I didn't know what was coming. . . "

"What?" Soujiro couldn't quite believe he'd just heard Yuki say that.

"Well sure." She gave a small half-smile, "I knew you two were always such philanderers. You wouldn't change for me, so why would Akira? I don't regret anything though. I'd still do it all again. . . It was wonderful to be in love." Yuki smiled again, despite the remaining tears shimmering in her eyes, and her expression seemed to soften as she remembered all the happiness she had so recently known.

"You never cease to amaze me." Soujiro shook his head ruefully.

"Really?" Yuki almost managed a laugh. Almost. "I don't think I said anything unusual."

Soujiro just smiled, glad to see that her tears had dried up, but at the same time, unconvinced that she was being completely truthful. "Hey, wanna go grab a few drinks?" He suggested, tired of sitting in this café, and thinking that the change of scene might do Yuki some good.

"Sure." Yuki pushed to her feet, managing for a few more seconds to maintain her semi-cheerful façade, before the whole charade came crashing down. One second she was standing by the table, shrugging her jacket on, and the next, her face was crumbling into tears as she slumped against the table like some cast-away china-doll. "Oh god. I can't believe he dumped me, just like that." Yuki sobbed, as Soujiro stood quickly, and pulled her into a comforting hug. "One day he's like, 'what do you want to do tomorrow?' and the next he's telling me he just wants to be friends. Why did it have to be like this? Why does it have to hurt so much.?"

"Shh . . ." Soujiro soothed, smoothing her hair with one hand, while the distraught girl buried her face in his chest.

". . .The worst part is, I really did know it was coming." Yuki looked up plaintively at Soujiro, "When he stopped calling so frequently, we didn't go out as often. . . You knew too didn't you?"

Soujiro nodded reluctantly, unable to lie before these pleading blue eyes. Everyone had known for at least a few days in advance. If he'd been paying more attention to his friends' lives, instead of to his own problems, he'd probably have noticed on his own, too, instead of having to be told by Akira, like he had been. 

". . .I tried to tell myself it was ok." Yuki went on, "That it was just his way. I tried to make myself love him less. But I couldn't.. . I can't blame him for being who he is, but it still hurts. .." She hid her face against Soujiro's chest again, as the taller boy let her cry. Neither really cared how strange a sight they made standing together in the half-empty café. 

"I'm sorry, you must think I'm such an idiot." Yuki made another attempt to dry her eyes.

"No. No." Soujiro protested, "You're not an idiot! It's only natural to be unhappy. Come on." He grinned suddenly, "Let me show you the proper way to drown your sorrows! The age old tradition of getting falling down drunk!"

"Err. . ." Yuki hesitated. Wouldn't that just make her feel more miserable?

Maybe Soujiro could read some of that question on her face, for he replied, "You're supposed to feel bad. The alcohol merely provides the excuse to wallow in it. Come on, it's expected. And it'll be good for you. You don't actually have to get shit-faced, you just need to drink enough, so that when anyone asks you why you were being so maudlin, you can blame it all on the booze and claim not to remember anything you said."

"Sounds awful." Yuki made a face, but couldn't help but be cheered up, at least a little, by Soujiro's strange ideas of commiseration. 

Together, they left the café, and wandered aimlessly down the street. Though she still felt sad, Yuki forced herself to try to enjoy the late afternoon sunlight, and the comforting way Soujiro's arm wrapped around her back 

For his part, Soujiro was glad to be dealing with someone else's problems for the moment, instead of his own hurts. Right now, Yuki needed a friend, and a shoulder to cry on. That he could do. Later on, he'd have to face Tsukushi and find out what she'd been doing behind his back, and if he too was about to be dumped like the girl walking beside him. But for now, all that could wait.

Aimlessly, the two wandered down the streets, until, at last Soujiro paused before a likely looking club, the Inferno. He used to come here frequently-- not only did they have good jazz music on weeknights, but some of Tokyo's hottest chicks often graced its dimly-lit rooms. Not that he cared about the girls tonight, not when he was with Yuki, but still, he couldn't help but be reminded of some of his more memorable conquests as he escorted Yuki through the door.

They settled into a comfortable sofa in the front room, and Soujiro ordered the first round of drinks; a cosmo for Yuki, martini for himself. 

"Drink up." He encouraged, a sly grin creeping across his features.

Yuki managed a small smile in return as she sipped her drink. They could probably have sat in companionable silence for some time, except for the fact that the only person who Soujiro really felt comfortable being quiet around was Tsukushi. So instead, he soon began to talk idly, trying to distract and amuse Yuki, letting his words fall like a soothing summer's rain around her. It was almost the same skill set as that which he used to seduce other women. But here there was no verbal dance, no exchange of innuendo or knowing looks. There was only him, and Yuki drinking together, pretending to be distracted, pretending to be amused, when in reality, all the both of them could think about was their own inner pain. 

Yuki smiled and laughed at Soujiro's jokes; trying to show her appreciation for the effort he was making. But all the conversation in the world wouldn't ease her heart. Only time could do that; and a few hours just wasn't enough, not by a long shot. 

Soujiro maintained his steady banter, fully aware of the lie behind Yuki's shimmering eyes. Just like him, a false front to hide the unhappiness. Not like Tsukushi-- a girl who could never hide her emotions for long. Yuki lacked that certain something . . . that emotional vitality, that so attracted him to Tsukushi. Sure Yuki was sweet, but she lacked Tsukushi's perceptiveness, and her valor. . . . The more he sat here and drank, the more Soujiro found himself growing disgusted. What was he doing wasting time here, with a girl like Yuki when he should be spending time with the girl he loved? Sure, Yuki was a friend, but didn't she have other friends who she could talk to, ones that she wouldn't be so tempted to put up this false front to? If she would just break down and cry like she so obviously wanted to, then maybe some progress could be made. But no, she just sat there, pretending to smile, as if she actually heard a word he said. She was an idiot, to waste time in pretense. An idiot just like all the other girls he'd ever known. 

Soujiro grimaced mentally, How had he become friends with this chick again? Why was it that he cared about her? Suddenly, he couldn't remember. Maybe it was his lingering doubts about Tsukushi that made him so suddenly bitter, or his irritation at being forced to be here at this moment. But whatever the cause, Soujiro found himself gripped by the compulsion to see just how stupid Yuki really was. If he'd been sober, or less depressed, it never would have happened. But here he was, just sitting there thinking of how Tsukushi could be off somewhere, this very moment, in some bar much like this one, listening to Rui or Tsukasa murmur sweetly in her ear, much as he was now murmuring to Yuki. . . . well, let's just say that he got carried away by the moment. Gradually, Soujiro shifted close to Yuki, and his tone grew softer, more seductive, as he leaned nearer, his devilish smile sparkling to life, his eyes seeming to smoulder in the dim room. Deep down inside, Soujiro knew that what he was trying to do was wrong on so many levels, and he hated himself for his lack of control. But no matter how his inner voice cursed and berated him, it somehow failed to reach whatever rebellious part of his brain controlled his voice, his arms, his smile. Maybe, if he'd had less to drink, he might have stopped himself before it was too late. . . . but such was not the case. 

And what of Yuki? Was she simply a passive recipient of Soujiro's charms? Did she even notice them, wrapped up as she was in her broken-hearted sorrow? Did she encourage his attentions, for the warm feeling they brought her? That feeling of being admired, of being desired. What normal woman can resist the flattery of a handsome man? Or the flirtations of a good friend? Not Yuki, that was for sure. She could even almost forget the fact that she'd just been dumped, and pretend that this evening was what could have, should have, might have happened all those long months ago, when she'd first pursued Soujiro. Before her silly little head had been filled full of Akira. As Soujiro oozed seductive charm, (and as she sipped her fourth drink of the evening) Yuki felt a warm glow spreading through her. In her dazed mind, it was almost as if, seeing that she was free again, Soujiro had realized his previous mistake and decided to rectify that error by pursuing her now. She knew this was wrong -- tried to brush aside the feeling as simple misinterpretation. Really, he was just trying to cheer her up, there was nothing at all seductive about the way their bodies were almost touching on the couch, or how his hand accidentally brushed hers as he reached for his glass. . . It had to be all in her mind, but even if it was. . . still it gave Yuki a delicious feeling of anticipation; the thrill of desire washing away the pain of rejection. . . 

----

Elsewhere in the large club, Amon was hard at work. For a Monday night, the bar was depressingly busy, and he was to busy rushing around filling drink orders to notice the strange sight of Tsukushi's boyfriend macking on a worshipful-looking blonde girl. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on one's perspective, the early evening rush soon died down, and Amon heaved a sigh of relief. After his all-nighter, not to mention the afternoon spent with that hyperactive Shigeru chick, he was well and truly exhausted. All he wanted now was to end his shift peacefully, and go home to sleep. Tomorrow he was supposed to meet Shigeru and discuss their plan of action, once they'd both had time to think. Stretching as his break-time came 'round, Amon made his way to the front room. If he could find the night manager and cut a deal with him, he might be able to get off work early; and what a blessing that would be. Unfortunately, he failed to find the man he was looking for, but as he made his disgruntled way back across the room to his station at the bar, he did see another eye-catching sight altogether. 

Amon's eyes narrowed as he watched the handsome teenager cozying up to the cute girl on the far side of the room. "So much for Tsukushi's boyfriend," he growled in disgust, and turned away. But, back in the other room, Amon began to consider. Tsukushi might hate him for it, but she deserved to know her man was cheating on her. Though surely, even Makino couldn't be so dense as to not realize that with a man like Nishikado, such an event was inescapable? 

Back at the bar, Amon stopped to consider the wisest course of action. He could, of course, kick NIshikado's ass himself. And that would give him great pleasure, but then Tsukushi might never learn of what really went on here. Knowing her, she'd have to see it for herself to believe the truth. Really, there was only one thing he could do, no choice at all, in the end. Amon sighed, and slipped out to the back alley, where he could make a phone call in peace and quiet.

-------

Tsukushi was finally finished with the remainder of her work shift. She'd called Soujiro when she got back to work, but apparently he'd turned his phone off again. That was rarely a good sign. He co-workers had told her that a man had called for her earlier, but refused to leave a message. She'd assumed it was her brother, at first, but when she'd called the apartment, he'd denied it. So she guessed it must have been Soujiro. Though why he didn't leave a message was beyond her. That, combined with the fact that his cell was left off, made her worry that he might be having one of his moods again. She left an upbeat message on his voicemail, hoping he'd listen to it soon and call her back, but she was disappointed, when, by the end of her shift, no one had called for her at all.

Heaving a slightly rueful sigh, Tsukushi made her way out the door. She should go home, take a bath, and then she'd try to find out where it was her errant boyfriend had got himself off to tonight. 

She'd only walked a few blocks when her phone rang. She suppressed a sigh at the name on the caller ID, and cheerfully answered, "Hey Shigeru! What's up? How was your shopping trip this afternoon?" If she noticed the uncertain pause at the other end of the line before the hurried answer, of "It was wonderful, as usual, you should have seen the shoes they had on sale at the Leathery!" she didn't say anything, and Shigeru was allowed to continue on.

"But that's not what I was calling about. . . Umm. .. How should I put this? I just got a call from the most unlikely person . . And well, He said that SoujiroIsCheatingOnYouWithSomeBlondeChickAtTheInfernoNightclub!" Shigeru spit it all out in one long breathless sentence, before inhaling deeply as if to continue in the same vein, but Tsukushi interrupted her before she could go on.

"Hold on, Wait. What did you say? Who? Where? Soujiro's with Whom? I don't believe it. He wouldn't. He promised."

"Err. . ." Shigeru didn't want to be the one to upset Tsukushi's convictions, but she didn't have a choice. "Look, Tsukushi, I've got my limo, I'll come pick you up and tell you about it on the way, ok?"

"Ah. . ."

"That's a yes. Where are you? I'll be right by."

. . . A few minutes later, Shigeru's car pulled up next to the sidewalk where Tsukushi was still standing trying to parse what exactly was going on. 

"Hey, hop in." Shigeru opened the door, and Tsukushi slid in next to her friend.

"So, what did you hear? And from who? And where are we going?" Tsukushi demanded.

"Ah. . ." Shigeru paused, "Amon called me. No wait, don't look at me like that, let me finish! It's complicated, I'll explain later. Please!" She watched until Tsukushi's look of disbelief had faded a little, before she went on, "Any way, he said that Soujiro was drinking at the club he works at, you know the one, and that he's been flirting with this one girl all evening, and he thought you should know, so he called me, and so here I am!"

"Oh." Was all Tsukushi could manage to say. A few tense moments passed as the car brought them closer to their destination. But then she perked up. "Oh! I know what's going on! It must be Yuki. That asshole Mimasaka said he was dumping her, so I bet Soujiro's just trying to cheer her up. Trust a jerk like Amon to try to skew things around like that!" She peered at her friend suspiciously, "And what are you doing getting phone calls from him in the first place?"

"Err. . ." Shigeru trailed off, unwilling to admit just what unholy pact she'd made with the man, "Oh look! We're here! I'll explain later! Come on! Let's go!"

Unwillingly, Tsukushi let herself be dragged inside. 

------

Soujiro swallowed the last drop of the drink in front of him. He was well on his way to being wasted, and it felt every bit as shitty as it always did. But this time, there was Yuki to share his pain. Great. Just great. Soujiro eyed the girl at his side, trying to gauge her mood, her mindset, at this moment. Not like it was a challenge. She gazed back up at him, her shimmering blue eyes filled with all-too-familiar desires; a sweet longing that now threatened to almost totally obliterate the heartache that had filled them this afternoon. And that pouty lower lip of hers, trembling ever so slightly under his continued perusal. Yeah, He'd been right, Yuki truly was as dumb as he'd thought. And Soujiro knew just what to do with Stupid girls. Basking in his own self-pity, and general disgust at life right now, Soujiro ignored the screaming voice in his skull telling him to stop before it was too late, and proceeded to lean closer, cupping Yuki's cheek in his hand as he did so. In response, she arched her neck closer, and closed her eyes. Inwardly Soujiro sighed, why was he doing this to himself? To them? He knew the answer already though. . . Because if he'd lost Tsukushi then nothing mattered anyway. Not even this. 

As if it were something he'd always wanted to do, Soujiro pressed his lips to Yuki's, as she reached out, almost instinctively, to pull him closer into an excessively passionate embrace. 

It may have been an eternity later, or perhaps only a few seconds, that Soujiro felt a tingle of premonition. Someone was watching him. He opened his eyes to a sight he most dreaded in the whole world. . . Innocent brown eyes staring back at him across the room, full of shock, and betrayal, but mostly flooded with an almost unbearable look of utter devastation. In that one second, he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that all his fears of Tsukushi's constancy had been utterly unfounded. And now, he had only himself to blame for the fact that he had just lost the one thing he most valued in his entire life. . .

. . . Tsukushi watched, utterly heartbroken as Soujiro made no attempt to explain himself. In fact, he didn't even say a word, as he gently pulled the utterly oblivious Yuki against his chest -- what seemed to be an intimate embrace really serving to shield her from the knowledge that her best friend was standing behind her, silently taking in the scene. 

And still, despite their locked gazes, neither Soujiro nor Tsukushi said a word. He hadn't the courage, and she hadn't the strength. He couldn't even muster the guts to go after her as she turned away at last, and slowly left the club; he was too afraid to face her disappointment that he wasn't the man she thought he could be. "I'm sorry, " he cried silently to her retreating back, "This is all I ever was truly capable of. We were fools to ever believe otherwise." At that moment, he knew, she could never hate him as much as he hated himself. He'd never deserved her, and now he never would.

__

Now I'm not looking for absolution

Forgiveness for the things I do

But before you come to any conclusions

Try walking in my shoes. . .

To be continued. . . 

~bah this was supposed to be two chapters/ covering two days. But I decided to go ahead and condense a bit. Not too successfully though. I think. Grumble grumble. Maybe I'm just in a bad mood 'cause I've been failing to find a new roommate for over a month now. What a fucking pain in my ass. I hate people. I hate the cost of living even more.~


	20. salt in his wounds

~~~What? Why are you looking at me like that? I don't write angst, I swear. It was the monkeys! Evil Shakespearean monkeys with typewriters. See, look there! Damn. . you just missed them.. Hey, whoa, that happy noodle thing wasn't intentional, but it probably was a subconscious reference anyway. (I' m just the one who cheers her stressed friends up by reading fillerbunny to them in funny voices) And JtHM totally rocks. . . . ~~~

__

I understand now. It was wrong of me to ask for anything. . . even. . .happiness. . .

Only a few short moments had passed since Tsukushi had turned and walked away. Gently, Soujiro pushed Yuki away, and sat there looking at her, debating what exactly he should tell her. He settled for the softest half-truth he could. After all, there was no need to let Yuki know what had really just happened, yet. Let her keep her blissful ignorance for a little while longer. Soujiro settled a serene, yet moderately regretful mask across his features, completely masking the self-disgust and hatred that roiled within. 

"I'm sorry." He began, "I don't know what came over me. . . That was uncalled for." 

Yuki looked up at him in confusion, wondering what was that look that had just flashed through his eyes? It had seemed so dark, so brooding, but was gone now. Maybe it was just her imagination. "Oh!" she stammered uncomfortably. After all, it wasn't like she hadn't reciprocated the kiss or anything, "It. . It's ok." She eyed him hesitantly, unsure what had prompted the kiss in the first place, or his sudden apology.

"No," Soujiro insisted, "It's not ok. Come, let me take you home. I think we've had enough to drink tonight." He stood and offered a hand to his blonde companion. 

Yuki remained seated, as she idly fiddled with her now-empty glass. "I. . I didn't really mind. . " she admitted, suddenly feeling nervous beneath Soujiro's dark gaze. . ."I. . I don't want to be alone tonight." 

Soujiro felt himself beginning to get even angrier, but outwardly he let none of this show. How could she sit there so calmly and ask him to cheat on her best friend? Sure, she didn't know that Tsukushi had just seen them, but did she really think that him spending the night with her could possibly go unnoticed? Maybe, he reasoned, that wasn't what she meant at all. Maybe she just wanted companionship. After all, if Tsukushi had asked the same of him, that was all she would have meant. Yuki couldn't truly mean the act he thought she did. He had to make sure, "Do you know what you're asking?" He demanded incredulously.

". . . Yes." At least she had the grace to blush. Inwardly, Soujiro grimaced. Even he'd never thought that Yuki could be so selfish. "Please. .. It hurts. It doesn't have to mean anything! . . .I just don't want to feel so rejected anymore." Now Yuki really did start to cry.

Slowly, unwillingly, Soujiro sank back down onto the couch. "I'm already damned," he thought to himself, as he drew Yuki into his embrace, "And now, I'm taking her with me." After all, it was her fault as well as his, that he'd fucked up so royally. He'd tried to protect her, to send her back before she dug her own grave any deeper. But now; now he was beginning to hate her as much as he hated himself. She was the selfish one here, heedless of the harm her desires could do to her friends, and she could bloody well pay the price with him. Tonight, he'd obey her wishes. He'd fuck her senseless-- do all the things to her that he'd wanted to share with Tsukushi. And when it was over, he'd leave her alone. Leave her with the knowledge that she'd been the one to request this; that she'd help to betray her best friend, the woman he loved. 

No, Soujiro knew he was not a good man. A good man wouldn't kiss his girlfriend's best friend; a good man wouldn't watch his girlfriend flee the scene without so much as a word; a good man wouldn't then proceed to sleep with the best friend and abandon her like any other brainless slut. But he was not a good man; he was worthless, scum, not fit to live. He never had deserved the happiness Tsukushi brought him, and now he knew, he would never feel that happiness again. . .

Soujiro's hooded eyes were dull and lifeless as he kissed Yuki, escorted her from the bar, undressed her in some secluded hotel room, and made her feel loved again, for a few brief moments. Afterwards, as a thoroughly sated Yuki slept beneath the sheets, Soujiro bitterly slipped away, to wander out into the chill of the breaking dawn. 

The morning streets were still and quiet; the grey predawn light making the city seem barren and empty -- a lonely wasteland. It matched Soujiro's mood perfectly. Restlessly, the boy paced the deserted streets; going nowhere; unwilling to go home to face the emptiness of his room, the unhappy aura that still lingered over his family estate, but having no other destination where he could seek refuge. Eventually, Soujiro stopped on an overpass, to watch the few cars passing beneath the roadway. Each lonely car that crept by, could those drivers possible understand the pain he felt? The self-loathing that motivated him now? As they went home from work, or from some late night tryst or party, or early to the office, did they ever have recollections of betrayals that panged them? Would their lives ever be as lonely as he knew his was about to be?

Soujiro shook his head regretfully. He hoped not. Seized by a sudden urge to destroy something, in a primitive form of catharsis, Soujiro reached for his cell phone, intending to throw it off the bridge, to be smashed by the spinning wheels of the traffic below. But, just as he'd cocked his arm to throw the device away, he noticed the flashing message memo. Masochistically, he regarded the phone. Time-stamped six PM, it was from Tsukushi. Only a few hours before she'd caught him kissing Yuki.. . . He shouldn't listen. Knew he should throw the phone away like he wanted to. Oh yes, Soujiro knew that when he heard Tsukushi's cheerful voicemail, he'd just be deepening his feelings of guilt. But he felt that he probably deserved all the misery he could get right now, so, with a heavy heart, Soujiro sat down on the sidewalk, dangling his legs off the edge of the bridge, and listened to the message. . .

. . . "Hey Soujiro! Did you call me earlier? Sorry I wasn't at work. . . See, I had a doctor's appointment I had to go to. I was sorta embarrassed to tell you, so. . . ummm. . . yeah. Rui took me. But, anyway, are you free for dinner tonight? I get out at 8. Call me back and let me know. . . There's something important I want to talk to you about. . . Oh wow, I bet that sounds ominous doesn't it?" Tsukushi laughed nervously, before continuing, "But don't worry! It's nothing bad! I promise! Really! Ok, I gotta go back to work now. Seeya!"

Soujiro sat there on the overpass, replaying the message over and over again, letting Tsukushi's cheerful voice wash gently through his skull. What was it she had wanted to tell him? Why had Rui of all people taken her to the doctor? What health problem might she have that she was too embarrassed to tell him about, but not Rui? He had No idea. And now, he doubted he ever would. It'd be a miracle if she ever spoke to him again. and he wouldn't blame her if she didn't. Dismally, Soujiro listened to her message again. He could no longer throw the phone away, not so long as it held a connection to her-- even one so slight as the tinnily recorded message, a poor echo of her voice's true tones. 

Eventually, dawn finally made its appearance, and Soujiro slunk off to his own bed, only to lie there, awake and miserable, as the new day began.

~~~Sorry, short chapter. Next Time: Tsukushi's reaction. And Tsukasa may get a cameo.

Also, I bet Shigeru and Amon will be up to no good. . . However, I don't know when the next chapter will actually be out. I got a friend coming to town this week who wants to crash at my place, and I can't let him catch me writing fanfic. I'd never hear the end of it. ugh. And of course, I'm really, really supposed to be tooling my ass off for OQEs. But I'll try to get a chapter out before the shit goes down. Otherwise ya'll will have to wait till after the sixth.~~~


	21. a busy day

~~~Yeah, yuki is pretty messed up in this fic. I never liked her much, and it shows. She's just a shallow little idiot. Who now has more than a little streak of selfishness. Plus she just doesn't think before she acts. Eh, you can blame it on Akira's bad influence if you want to. And thanks everyone for the birthday wishes. I feel soo old!!~~~  
  
Tsukushi stumbled through the door to her apartment. She had no idea how she'd managed to get home, whether she'd waked, taken the train, or if Shigeru had given her a ride. All she could see, etched vividly into her mind's eye, was that dreadful scene. Yuki and Soujiro; their arms wrapped around each other in an intimate embrace; Yuki almost sitting on Soujiro's lap as she leaned into the passionate kiss. Sure, in all the time that she'd known him, Tsukushi had seen Soujiro kiss a huge array of women, but not since he made his pledge to her almost three months ago.  
  
Bitterly, Tsukushi supposed she should have realized that Soujiro would not have infinite patience. He wasn't like Rui who was seemingly content to wait forever for a day that would never arrive. No, Soujiro was bound to grow impatient. . . But why, Tsukushi's brain screamed in agony, did he have to pick Yuki? The betrayal mightn't have been so bad if she'd caught him with one of his usual bimbos. After all, she'd dragged his drunk-ass home from many a bar (and the concomitant bimbos) earlier in the winter. . . But now, when she'd been about to give him the most precious gift she could afford. . . he had to go and do this!  
  
To say that Tsukushi was devastated would have been the understatement of the year. Not since she'd sent Doumyouji away had she felt so desolate inside. Her heart was numb, her brain was ice; she could hardly breathe or think. She didn't want to think ever again; for if she did, she might remember. . .  
  
Staggering into the bedroom, Tsukushi pulled out her futon and slumped across it, ignoring her brother's sudden concerned inquiries.  
  
"Sis! What happened? Are you ok?" The younger boy knelt down besides Tsukushi. But she didn't respond. She just lay there, her head buried in her arms, silently repeating a new mantra.  
  
"I will not cry. I am the weed. I will not cry. I will be strong." She'd cried too many tears in the past year, lost too much time to failed relationships and loves that could never be. So she'd screwed up again. Big surprise, she did that with remarkable frequency. But no more. She wouldn't do it any longer. No more silly schoolgirl dreams of romance. No more love. She was the weed. She would be strong. She would make a new start. She didn't have time for any more of this pain, and she didn't think her bruised heart could take another fall. She had to work, to provide for her family, she had to tool, to get good grades in school, to pave the way for her future. These were the important things in life. Money, food on the table, education and a secure job. Not these dreams of romantic fulfillment. She'd been a fool to ever think otherwise.  
  
Tsukushi made a supreme effort to bury her pain within, to lock it deep in the darkest corner of her heart; the chamber specially reserved for her romantic crises. She too could hide her feelings-- not as successfully as some, and not at all to those who truly understood her, but well enough to pass casual inspection -- or at least so she'd like to believe. After all, she'd worn this mask often enough on Doumyouji's account in the past. So now Nishikado would be the cause of her frighteningly false smiles and devil-may-care attitude. But who would mend her broken heart this time?  
  
No One. Not if she had any say in the matter.  
  
Thus resolved, Tsukushi finally allowed herself to hear her brother's pleas.  
  
"It's ok, Susumu," she murmured, looking up from her contemplation of the floor, "I just had a bad day. Have you eaten yet? Are you hungry?"  
  
The boy's growling stomach answered that question for her.  
  
"Ok then." Tsukushi slowly picked herself up from the bed, and made her way to the kitchen. Susumu almost fell backward in fright at the cold despair that had replaced the usual warm cheer in his sister's eyes. Whatever she might say, this wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.  
  
"Sister. . . " he began tentatively.  
  
"What do you want for dinner?" Tsukushi acted as if she hadn't heard the pleading question in his tone, "All we have is stuff for stew."  
  
". . . Stew's fine. . .:" Susumu caught the warning note in his sister's tone and retreated. Tsukushi was Scary when she was angry. As the boy cowered in the bedroom, the sharp sound of Tsukushi-s overly-violent vegetable chopping carried clearly to his ears. At this rate they'd be eating vegetable mush, not stew.  
  
"Ow. Damn it!."  
  
"Sis?" Susumu cautiously poked his head back into the kitchen. Tsukushi was standing over the chopping board, watching blood drip from a large cut on her finger into the veggies. She wasn't moving, or making any move to staunch the bleeding. No, she just stood there watching the steady drip of crimson, as if the drops of blood flowing from her hand were the tears she would not let herself shed.  
  
Susumu crept up behind his sister, and hugged her with all the love he could muster. He didn't know what was wrong. But something had hurt his sister, and if he ever learned what or who it was, that person would pay. This he swore, as he led his numbly docile sister to a seat at the kitchen table, and finished making the stew himself. Pushing a bowl in front of his sister, he watched in concern as she methodically forced herself to eat one bite at a time.  
  
"Have to eat to keep your strength up!" that was the Makino motto. Silently, he refilled her bowl, and the two siblings ate. No matter what trauma assailed them, they would always be family. And family took care of each other, unquestioningly, and unreservedly. Tsukushi even managed a tiny smile for her worried brother as the two of them settled in to sleep for the night.  
  
No matter what happened, even if she couldn't have the love she craved, Tsukushi knew she would never be alone as long as she had her family. At least she was fortunate in that.  
  
-------  
  
The next day found Tsukushi awake and about early; bustling about the kitchen preparing lunch for Susumu and herself.  
  
"Please, sis," Susumu begged, "No blood in the rice. Will you please stop mutilating your fingers?" Tsukushi had already, in her distraction, managed to slip up and nick her hand a few more times.  
  
Tsukushi said nothing. She hadn't really spoken since she'd come home last night. It was almost as if the usually gregarious girl had decided that it just wasn't worth the energy to speak any more.  
  
"Sister!" Susumu was getting desperate now.  
  
Tsukushi finally blinked at her brother's pleading voice. "Sorry." She murmured in a dull monotone, "I've got to run, or I'll be late for school."  
  
Susumu watched in helpless exasperation as his sister took off for school. Why did she always have to do this to herself? His big sister never let any one in; never would admit what was really wrong. Not without serious effort on the part of her friends to pry her out of her shell. No, she always wanted to be the strong one, who didn't bend no matter what stresses piled on her. And maybe she was that strong. But right now, Susumu feared that his sister was far more brittle than she'd ever admit to. And he had no idea what to do about it.  
  
---------  
  
Inside the Eitoku School gates, Shigeru tried to stop Tsukushi and speak to her, But Tsukushi just smiled a big false smile, saying that everything was fine, as she rushed off to class.  
  
"What was that all about?" Sakurako asked in astonishment, as Shigeru stared after Tsukushi.  
  
Well, New spread fast, especially after half the student body managed to overhear Sakurako's incredulous screech, "She Caught him doing What?! Well, fuck, he's a guy, what did you expect?!" followed by a lot of muffled comments as Shigeru hastily clamped her hands around Sakurako's mouth. Unfortunately, she was too late, and the damage was already done. . .  
  
Sometime around noon, Akira wandered in to school accompanied Rui. It didn't take long for Akira to start to hear the rumors, what with his uncanny nose for gossip and all. He turned to Rui, as if to ask what the quiet boy thought, but Rui was already in motion, homing in on the quiet bench in the school garden where Tsukushi hunched, eating her solitary lunch, away from the prying eyes and vicious taunts of her peers.  
  
"Hey." He greeted, settling himself down beside her.  
  
"Hey." Tsukushi muttered, refusing to make eye contact with him.  
  
"Want to talk?"  
  
"No."  
  
Rui shrugged, and, seeing that Tsukushi was hardly taking up any space on the stone bench, allowed himself to stretch out and recline comfortably behind her. He closed his eyes, and let the warm sun lull him, as he waited for Tsukushi to speak and tell him what had really happened. He was, however, to be sorely disappointed, when Tsukushi painstakingly finished her lunch, and stood up.  
  
"I have to get to class," she explained dully, as she turned to leave,  
  
"Tsukushi. . ."  
  
"Don't." Tsukushi turned back briefly, "Whatever you're going to say. Just don't." She didn't want to know what Rui was going to say. Not right now. She couldn't take it; couldn't stand the kindness, the gentle and eternal concern. She couldn't trust it. It was just a trap, a trap to soften her heart and let her feel. When all she wanted now was to be as ice; cool and numb, and feeling no pain.  
  
Rui was left, like Shigeru earlier, to stare helplessly, as Tsukushi trudged away. He'd never seen her so dead; so drained of vitality. This was not the spirited girl he loved, the cheerfully optimistic woman with whom he'd spent yesterday afternoon. Rui was sure that Soujiro must be responsible for this horrendous change. And for that, he would pay. Deliberately, Rui rose from his seat and left the school, intending to make good on an old promise.. . .  
  
Having finally cornered Shigeru and heard the real story from her, Akira was in a state of shock. His Yuki had. . . done what? With Soujiro? He couldn't believe it. Sure, he'd told his friend to distract her, but not like that! What had he been thinking? What had she been thinking? It was almost enough to negate the afterglow from his prolonged date last night. But, he reassured himself, Soujiro and Yuki had only kissed, and what did that matter? She wasn't his girlfriend anymore anyway, she could kiss whomever she wanted. Akira wasn't much one for jealousy -- how could he be, when most of his girlfriends were married. Love was love, and sex was sex. It didn't matter to him if he shared with another. There was always plenty of both to go around. . . But what of Tsukushi? Akira doubted she would be so accepting of Soujiro's behavior. Not that he could figure out what Soujiro was thinking in the first place.  
  
Suddenly, Akira was struck by a terrible thought. What if Soujiro and Yuki hadn't just kissed. . .? Knowing Soujiro, it was just possible that he'd actually decided to seduce her. In Soujiro's world, a simple kiss often led to sex; at least such had been the case for years previously: Akira had seen it many times. And if this were the case. .. What was he supposed to do? Tsukushi was his friend. But so was Soujiro, and Yuki too, even if he didn't love her anymore.  
  
His head spinning in confusion, Akira sagged against the hall lockers. He needed simplicity. He needed clarity. He decided to call Tsukasa. No, not to tell him the news. Oh god no, But to be assaulted by the other boy's directness; his simple-minded childish approach to life; in the hopes that it would somehow inspire him how to fix this mess that had sprung up so quickly.  
  
--------  
  
After school. Tsukushi made a quick phone call, resigning from her job at the Dango shop. She couldn't bear the thought of ever going back there, of seeing Yuki, of remembering her betrayal. Instead, she set out wandering the streets in search of help-wanted ads. She soon found just the thing; a small ice cream parlor was looking for a part-time employee to work the afternoon shift. Alone. Tsukushi figured the solitude would do her good-- forgetting, of course, how sloppy her work tended to be when she was stressed. But none of that seemed to be important to the shopkeeper, who was only too happy to have found a new employee so quickly-- and what's more, a girl who seemed very diligent and eager to please. Tsukushi was to get her training and start that very afternoon. It was an arrangement that pleased them both-- for, if Tsukushi was busy working, she wouldn't have time to think at all.  
  
-------  
  
Shigeru sat in a small coffee shop sipping a latte. She looked up and smiled as Amon slid into the seat across from her.  
  
"Hey." He greeted casually,  
  
"Hey, yourself." Shigeru was trying not to stare at the man across from her. It was actually the first time she'd seen him in good lighting and Oh wow, did he look even -hotter in the day time . . .Or maybe the resemblance to Tsukasa was just more pronounced. Either way, it was hard to keep from drooling, as he grinned lazily at her.  
  
"So, Did Makino get home ok last night?" Amon had more important priorities to take care of before the two of them got down to business.  
  
"Yeah," Shigeru looked away, disappointed that, as usual, Tsukushi was the first thing on everyone's mind. Though, in this case, the disappointment was accompanied by sharp guilt pangs at the thought that she could be so jealous of her heart-broken friend. "I think she's gone into denial though. . ."  
  
"Heh. Typical. " Amon snorted cynically, "So who was the bimbo?"  
  
". . Her best friend."  
  
"I see. . . Tsukushi always did have poor taste in her friends." Amon remarked lightly, hiding his true concern for Makino's well being. After all, it wasn't like she'd let him do anything for her, anyway. It was time to move on to other concerns. . . namely, Doumyouji Tsukasa. . . "So have you thought about what we're going to do?"  
  
". . . Sort of." Shigeru pulled out a hefty notebook, filled with reams and reams of scribbled notes.  
  
"And what the hell is that?" Amon asked, wide-eyed, as Shigeru flipped through the pages.  
  
"Plans!" Shigeru exclaimed happily. "So here's one, where I kidnap him and we spend a luxurious weekend at my family's island resort. .. And here's an idea we had, where I lock you guys in a bedroom for the week! . . . "  
  
"Oh god." Amon groaned sotto voce, "What the hell have I got myself into. This girl is insane." Not like he shouldn't have already known that much already. "Look," he reasoned, placing a restraining hand on Shigeru's, "I don't think forcing him to do anything is going to work well. . .You know how stubborn that boy is."  
  
"You're probably right. . ." Shigeru sighed, "But I didn't have any better ideas. . ."  
  
"Well, I have two thoughts." Amon explained, "We really have two angles to approach this from. First of all, Doumyouji Kaede really wants your marriage to work. Knowing her, she probably has spies watching the both of you. When they tell her that you're not speaking to Tsukasa and that you've been spotted around town with me, she's going to get concerned that you're fooling around."  
  
"But." Shigeru attempted to interrupt.  
  
"Let me finish. Just because it's not true doesn't mean they know that." Amon leered suggestively. After all, it had almost been true. "Anyway, she's not going to like the idea that people might realize I'm not Tsukasa. Rumors could fly, your reputation and that of the Doumyouji's could be damaged. You know the consequence of that, don't you?"  
  
Shigeru nodded.  
  
"But the thing is, Kaede seems to like to take care of things in-family. Or maybe she just likes to torture Tsukasa. Either way, she's probably going to force him to come deal with you. Which gives us the first opening. He's going to have to come talk to us. And we can then create a situation that will work to our advantage." Amon paused. He didn't know yet quite what that situation would be, but he was sure he could think of something, with his partial understanding of Tsukasa's aberrant psychology.  
  
"And the second thing?" Shigeru asked.  
  
"Tsukushi."  
  
"Umm. . ." Shigeru scratched her head. How was that supposed to help?  
  
"She owes me." Amon stated bluntly.  
  
"But Tsukasa's not speaking to her! He's not even speaking to me!"  
  
"He will."  
  
"How can you be so sure?"  
  
"She just lost her boyfriend. She's alone and unhappy. Doumyouji won't be able to stay away."  
  
"But. . ."  
  
"Trust me. You tell him that she's suffering, he'll come like a moth to flame."  
  
"Not to sound callous," Shigeru protested, "But how does that help us?"  
  
"She doesn't love him, but she'll accept his friendship. If I know that girl.. . ."  
  
"And Tsukasa? He loves her. Not us." Somehow Shigeru failed to notice the incongruity of that last statement.  
  
"He's wavering" Amon waved a dismissive hand. "Ask Tsukushi to put in a good word, a little positive reinforcement. . . start infiltrating subliminally into that boy's dense brain."  
  
"It'll never work." Shigeru sighed.  
  
"Sure it will." Amon grinned, "Who's the master of emotional manipulation here? It certainly isn't you." Teasingly, he poked Shigeru's nose.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Trust me." Amon's voice dropped dangerously, "I intend to get what I want. I'm not letting a few little difficulties stand in my way. You talk to Makino. I'll call you tomorrow." He stood as if to leave, but was hindered by Shigeru's grip on his arm. "What?"  
  
"And when will I ever win?" Shigeru pled urgently, "This isn't just about you!"  
  
"Ah. . .Shigeru. . have a little patience. . ." Amon murmured, stopping her further protests with a searingly promissory kiss that left her breathless and gasping, "We'll all get what we want in the end. .. See ya!" With that, he breezily strode off, leaving Shigeru to pay the bill.  
  
"Bastard." Shigeru grumbled, as she left the coffee shop, alone, a few minutes later.  
  
----------  
  
Akira met Tsukasa at their usual spot in the park.  
  
"What do you want?" Tsukasa growled irritably, "I've got a lot of paperwork to do, and you're interrupting my schedule."  
  
"My, my." Akira grimaced, "Who would ever have thought you'd turn into such a killjoy executive? Come on Tsukasa you're 18! You should be having fun, like me!"  
  
"Fun? Are you having fun?" Tsukasa displayed an unusual degree of perception today.  
  
"Not really." Akira shrugged, "But I bet I'm having more fun than you are! After all, I got laid last night. . .And speaking of which. . . have you seen That Kunisawa guy again?"  
  
"No! What the hell would I have seen that freak?!"  
  
"Well why not?" Akira grinned, after making sure he was well out of Tsukasa's striking range. "I've been thinking that you two would make a great couple."  
  
Oops. He plainly had misestimated Tsukasa's reach. Akira 'oofed' in pain as Tsukasa whapped him squarely upside the head.  
  
"You're disgusting."  
  
"No no. I'm just practical!" Akira protested, "See here. You're 18 years old, and still a virgin! Now that's a problem you need to take care of as soon as possible, don't you think?"  
  
"No."  
  
"And speaking of virgins," Akira plunged on, momentarily forgetting that he hadn't meant to mention the current situation, " have you spoken to Makino today?"  
  
"Huh? Wha?" Tsukasa scowled, confused by the abrupt non-sequitur. Besides, given that She was dating Soujiro, he wouldn't have thought that Makino still merited that title, especially with intimate the scene he'd witnessed only a few days ago.  
  
"I guess that's a no, then." Akira sighed, and remembered himself. He had to keep his mouth shut, lest Doumyouji go off on a new violent rampage or something. Whatever had happened, he wouldn't like to see Soujiro dead. But oh shit, Akira suddenly realized that he didn't know where Rui had run off to. He hoped that the melancholy boy hadn't taken it into his head to avenge Tsukushi or anything? Fuck. Why did his friends have to be so utterly fucking insane? And why did they make their lives so complicated? And, oh god, Akira felt his head start to pound as he realized that he really should have called Yuki to get the real scoop from her, And what the fuck was he doing, sitting here talking to Tsukasa, again? If he couldn't even remember that, then things were worse than he thought.  
  
Akira froze, and sighed in frustration, while Tsukasa eyed him oddly, still not entirely certain why his usually mellow fried had called him out today, or, even more importantly, why he was acting all spastic and twitchy suddenly. Almost as if he had too much on his mind? Tsukasa did at least know the signs of mental overload, having experienced it himself way too many times in the past. Or maybe, Tsukasa rationalized, Akira just had a bad hangover, and the nausea was making him incoherent?  
  
"Oh fuck." Akira grunted at last, "I can't do this. Dude, you need to call Shigeru. I don't care if you don't like her. I don't care if you have nothing to say to her. You'll want to hear what she has to say. Trust me. Just ask what happened yesterday. Please."  
  
"You aren't making any sense." Tsukasa scowled, "Why are you being vague? What are you talking about? And why the fuck don't you just come straight out and say whatever it is that's making you so damned twitchy?" This; this is why he hated evasion, tiptoeing around issues. If people had something to say, they should just say it. If they wanted something, they should get do it. Life would be so much simpler and happier then. Sure, Tsukasa knew that he was being hypocritical recently, avoiding Tsukushi and Shigeru despite his longing to see them both, but that was another matter entirely. . . Not something he really dared explain to himself, much less anyone else.  
  
"I . . .I wasn't there." Akira shook his head in denial, "Look I gotta go. I need to make some phone calls.. . Just call her. Please."  
  
And just like that, Tsukasa was left alone wondering just which 'her' Akira had meant. . .  
  
To be continued.  
  
~~~Ok, Sorry, this chapter is a bit rushed, I'm short on time and all, but On the plus side, idiot boy isn't showing up here until Wednesday, after all. so I actually got to finish chapter, before I have to go clear all my browser history. Whee! Friends are such a hassle. That really sounds bad doesn't it? But in this case, it's true.. . .~~~ 


	22. On the question of Isolation

~~~You know, this chapter sounded so much better when I came up with it, before I typed it up. Of course, that was 5 days ago, on a beach, watching the sunset by myself, 100 miles away from my computer, so I shouldn't be surprised that something was lost in the interim. . . Oh yeah: and the Warning: this chapter contains Amon/Tsukasa weirdness. Deal. But first, it's time for a scene with my favorite fuck-up ~~~

__

I'm so far gone,

  
That deep down inside I think it's fine by me,  


I'm my own worst enemy  


Soujiro sat in his favorite spot in the house; on the small porch overlooking the fishpond. The cheerful afternoon sun shone warmly down upon his slumped back, as he dangled his feet idly over the clear waters. His unfocused eyes dimly watched the brightly colored fish swirling below. Occasionally, a small tremor would pass through him, as if he were shivering despite the balmy spring weather. 

From a distance, Soujiro heard familiar footsteps in the hall; a pause, as the door slid open; and finally, a short resumption as they crossed the deck to stand a few paces behind him. Soujiro didn't bother to look up as he greeted the other in a deceptively calm voice.

"So, you've come to gloat?"

Behind him, Rui said nothing.

"Fine then, You were right. Are you happy now? You always told me I'd fuck up, and now I have." Soujiro never looked away from the fascinating movements of the goldfish. It took all his energy to keep his voice from shaking, and he didn't want Rui to see the strain etched in his face, or shining in his bloodshot eyes. "So go ahead. Now's your chance, why are you wasting time here with me, when She's all yours now."

"Soujiro. . ."

"Oh what, now? You have more to add then what I already said? Let me finish for you." Soujiro paused for a moment in thought. "You know, I once said I was aiming to be the most irresponsible man in Japan. . . What do you think? Am I making good progress on that front? You can't get much more irresponsible than making out with your girlfriend's best friend in front of her. . . . But I did. I slept with her too." Soujiro more sensed than heard Rui's slight start behind him, and beneath his shadowing bangs he grinned in a strange sort of mirthless triumph. "Heh. You didn't know that, did you? Well, now you do. Go and tell her, will you? Make sure she knows what a jerk I really am. . ." Despite his effort to remain calm and collected, if rather bitter, Soujiro felt his control slipping, and his voice faded in the still air.

Rui silently settled himself on the edge of the porch next to Soujiro. He peered intently at the shadows that hid Soujiro's face, as if trying to pierce their veil to see into the other boy's skull. At length he spoke, 

"You shouldn't say things you don't mean."

Soujiro snorted, "Right. Which of my statements don't you believe? That I slept with Yuki? I can prove that one. That I'm an irresponsible asshole? Everyone knows that already, too. Or maybe You don't think I meant it when I told you to go after Her? No. You're wrong. I meant it all. But those may be the only statements I ever meant.. . . I mean really: I told her I could make her happy. But that was never true. She was never happy with me. It was the other way around. She was the only thing that made me happy. I think she stayed with me out of sympathy; but I never made her happy; it was always you she was laughing with and smiling for. . . " Soujiro's voice trailed briefly off as he remembered: no Tsukushi rarely smiled when they were alone together, not the true light happy smiles he adored; they were far too serious a couple; far too rooted in dependency and in the warding off of old pains and hurts together. Unsteadily he resumed, "So you see, I lied there, for my own selfishness. That's pretty irresponsible too, don't you think?" He stopped again, for Rui was looking at him oddly.

"That my friend, has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say." Rui stated quietly as he climbed to his feet. "I had come to punish you for hurting Makino, but I can see that you're punishing yourself far more effectively than I ever could." He started to walk away, but paused briefly at the door for one final thought, "If you really love her, you'll tell her yourself. She deserves the truth." He waited for a response, but as none came, he gave up and left Soujiro alone once more. And now, only the ignorant goldfish in the pond could hear Soujiro's whispered words.

". . . But I never deserved her. And that's the only truth we need to know. It's better to hurt her now. . . so that I can never do it again." . . . Never again see that agonized look of betrayal, the eyes that pierced his soul with guilt. Eyes that could cure his pain or torment him worse than a thousand red-hot pokers. . . 

The fish of course, didn't care, and continued their aimless dance, even as the placid surface of the water found itself disturbed by the slow drip of salty water trickling from Soujiro's dark eyes.

--------

Amon aimlessly meandered through the streets after his meeting with Shigeru. That girl was already beginning to get on his nerves. How she could remain so cheerfully energetic all the time was beyond him. Especially, as his own mood had been plunged deeper into darkness by the witnessing of Tsukushi's betrayal last night. When he'd watched her and her boy face off; when he saw that hurt in her expression, he almost wished he'd never called Shigeru and told her what was up. Truly, he hadn't thought it possible for a good girl like Makino to actually be so in love with a guy like Nishikado. At most he'd thought she must've merely had a crush on the boy-- Like all the girls, seduced by his clever words and inviting smiles. He wasn't used to being wrong about people. No, Amon had maybe been the most shocked of all, when from his distant corner, he'd turned to regard Soujiro, and seen mirrored in the playboy's face, a grief equally terrible as Tsukushi's and a shame more vast. Not at all the sordid callousness he'd expected. 

It had shaken Amon greatly, to know he'd been so wrong about that relationship. And still, he had no way to define the wrongness, any more than he'd known how to accept that the feeling that had once swept him when he looked at Makino could have been called, by others, 'love.' Though not by him, never by him. 

Makino changed people. That was what she did. . . She'd tried to change him; and maybe for a short time she'd succeeded. For that he, owed her. For that, he hated to see her hurt. It was almost enough to make him want to give up his pursuit of Tsukasa, and give her a shoulder to cry on in her time of hurt. Almost, but not quite. For, he knew, she'd never accept him in that, anyway.

No matter, He had a plan. Amon was good with plans. He even thought his might work. But he was sorely mistaken. Like all the devil's plans, Amon's was doomed to failure. Not through any logical flaw on his part, but rather from the random whims of a capricious that so often come to trap the unwary. 

And thus it was, rather than Amon's ploy of subtly infiltrating Tsukasa's subconscious, followed by masterful confrontation, Amon found himself, of a sudden, face to face with the man, himself, while strolling through a park, not far from where he'd sat with Shigeru, earlier.

"You!" Tsukasa growled, at the apparition before him.

"Yo." Amon grinned predatorily. This wasn't ideal, not by far. But he would play it as he could. Irately, he shoved his prior meditations on Makino to the back of his mind, out of his way.

"Why do you keep following me?" Tsukasa thought it awfully suspicious that Amon should appear before him again, mere days after their last encounter.

"What an ego." Amon sneered, "Why would I be following you? Why, when your fiancée is much more eager and willing to indulge my little fantasies." He leered evilly, trying to lure Tsukasa into a fury. The boy was really quite sexy when he was spitting mad, and at any rate, the fire that was already burning behind Tsukasa's eyes was much more encouraging than the cold blank slate that had filled them mere minutes before.

"You dare?!"

"Of course I do." Amon laughed lightly, "It's only the truth. I wasn't following you. Okawahara does want me. . . But I. . .I wonder. . . What other truths do you not know?" He leaned in closer, as if he could tear through the confusion that had suddenly settled over Tsukasa's features. 

Tsukasa was getting steadily more angry, and off-balance. It was time to see just how far he could push the boy, before they came to blows. . . (Not that Amon didn't expect he'd enjoy that contact too, when it came, but it was also fun to tease. . . ) Amon switched his tone suddenly, and, still leaning overly close to Tsukasa, remarked, "Do you realize that your eyes really sparkle when you're angry. . .It's quite intriguing. . . "

Amon darted away, as Tsukasa lashed out without warning. Apparently, Tsukasa had been closer to the edge than he'd thought. Oh well. Amon effortlessly parried another of Tsukasa's wild swings, before Tsukasa seemed to remember his martial arts training, and the fight got serious. 

Tsukasa felt a dark fury pouring through his veins as he wrestled with Amon. Somehow this guy just always seemed to know how to poke at him just so-- to bring all his frustrations raging to the surface, begging for release. And release them he did. Tsukasa felt more energized than he had in months, as he let his frustrations move him in this violent duet. All his confusions all his uncertainty, his helplessness and loss: it all was forgotten in the heat of the moment, in the purity of the hatred Amon provoked, and in the sheer mindless physicality of action. 

Amon was losing the fight, and losing it badly. He hadn't expected Tsukasa to be so devoted to kicking his ass. He'd expected the other boy to be distractible, that he'd be able to tear his attention from his violent purpose with taunts and gibes. But, Tsukasa seemed not even to hear his voice any more, while the two boys remained locked in combat. 

And what a sight they must have made, sweating, grunting, wrestling, punching, parrying, and kicking at each other, all in the midst of a dusty path through a very public park. By this point, neither cared; all that there was in their worlds, was the call of victory, to triumph over the other man, so alike in so many ways. Both men were now determined to prove themselves the stronger. Nevertheless, Tsukasa had the advantage, and he pressed it for all he was worth, until he had a bruised and weary Amon helplessly pinned to a tree.

And it was here that the two men froze, as Tsukasa made the mistake of pausing his assault to gasp for breath, and in so doing, met the fiery gaze of his opponent. Though Amon's face was flushed and sweaty, his eyes were clear and bright, and he stared unwaveringly back at Tsukasa. In fact, his eyes showed none of the mocking laughter that Tsukasa had come to expect from his foe, nor indeed was there any fear reflected within these dark spheres, despite the fact that Tsukasa seemed to have him pinned down quite effectively. No, Tsukasa was almost afraid to name the emotion he read in that face, lest he find it reflected in his own. And so, for a brief moment his breath caught in his throat, and he stared hopelessly, helplessly at the man who seemed to torment his every moment; whose memory would not leave him alone; whose near inexplicable actions and motivations left Tsukasa shaken and confused at every turn.

Amon was equally caught, transfixed by the heated glare directed at his very soul. Tsukasa was a simple person and it was easy to read the naked hunger in his face, the need for something. . . 

"You feel it too. You can't deny it." Amon broke the silence with this thoughtful pronouncement. His words shattered the moment and Tsukasa jerked away as if stung. 

"What the fuck?" Was his succinct reply. Amon, on the other hand, seized this unexpected opportunity to reverse their positions. Before he quite realized what had happened, it was Tsukasa who now found the rough tree bark biting into his back, the constrictive pressure of Amon's sinewy arm against his throat, and the other man's hot breath close against his face.

"You can't hide it." Amon insisted, "Even if you look away, it's too late. Your eyes don't lie."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, asshole." Tsukasa stonewalled.

Amon leaned closer, trusting in Tsukasa's confusion to spare him from further attack; his breath tickled Tsukasa's ear as he murmured, "The compulsion. Purity in violence. Strength in isolation. Like calls to like. You can't hide it from yourself forever. . . " His lips almost brushed Tsukasa's ear, and the trapped boy tensed up, unable to pull away, unable to flee this uncalled for intimacy.

Abruptly, Amon pushed himself away from Tsukasa, and announced, in a serious tone, quite unlike his 'normal' sardonic flippancy, a tone seemingly at odds with the sarcastic words shaped by it, "I've enjoyed this little conversation, I really have. We must do this again some time. And you know I like it when my friends play rough." He took a few steps back, as if waiting for Doumyouji to charge and attack him again. When Tsukasa, instead, remained leaning against the tree, Amon resumed his monologue, thoughtfully, "I mean it, Doumyouji. I told you before. I'll tell you again. I want you. I can see the hunger in you. No one else knows that hunger like I do. No one else possibly could. You feel better now, than you did twenty-minutes ago, don't you?" He took Tsukasa's glare for assent, "Of course you do. I'm the catalyst to release your pain. I know what you need, to free your hurts, to purge your soul. How could I not know. . . When I feel the same?"

"You're insane." Tsukasa spat angrily. But he could feel the truth of the other man's already resonating deep within his soul. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

"No, merely very, very hungry." Amon deliberately did not say for what, "Would you care to join me for dinner?" He proffered a hand to Doumyouji, as if to help the other boy pull more fully to his feet.

Doumyouji looked at the hand like it were poisoned. "What new trick is this?" He didn't say 'No.'

"No trick. . . But actually, there is some serious business you should know of." Amon let his hand fall, as a darker mood cast its shadow across his fine features.

"What?" Tsukasa demanded suspiciously.

"Come, and I will tell you." Amon commanded, attempting to destroy the now-somber mood with a small joke, "Relax, I won't bite. . . unless, of course, you want me to."

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Tsukasa denied the strange compulsion that gripped him; telling him to trust Amon, to go with him, to allow him to feed the hunger and the emptiness that gnawed at Tsukasa's soul. Childishly, he stuck his hands in his pockets, as if he truly were a pouting child, and strode away. Amon shook his head at the retreating back. 

"I really did just want to help you." But he did feel, some progress had been made. Still, the war was not yet won, and Amon had failed to inform Tsukasa about Makino, as he had planned. Well, maybe he would find out on his own. Almost wistfully, Amon sighed. He would have liked to have been there when Tsukasa learned of his friend's betrayal. He would have enjoyed seeing Tsukasa's rage; and maybe the two of them could have combined forces to send the inconstant Nishikado to the hell he so rightly deserved. 

Alas, a dream is just a dream. And revenge does not come so easily in reality.

In fact, Doumyouji was not even to learn the latest gossip for another two days. That's how out of the loop he was. . . To be that alone, so isolated from his peers -- it truly would have done him good to let Amon ease his loneliness. . . 

Even now, despite all outward appearance, the seeds of temptation had been planted. . .

To be continued. 


	23. so they can converse like rational peopl...

Two days passed. Much happened during those two days, but many of those events were not worth remembering, much less recording on paper. Akira called Yuki, listened to her subsequent breakdown and confession over the phone. It made him feel guilty; as if this whole mess were his fault. He wasn't petty enough to blame Yuki for her lack of judgement, but nor did he feel sorry enough for her to take her back. That chapter in his life was closed, and now all the comfort he could offer her was that of a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. And what can you say, anyway, to an ex- girlfriend who has done something so monumentally stupid as to attempt a rebound sympathy fuck with her best friend's boyfriend? Akira soon learned the answer to that: Not a whole heck of a lot.  
  
Soujiro continued to mope listlessly around his house, until his mother finally had two of the family security detail haul him off to school, where he continued to act like an utter killjoy, speaking to no one and generally sitting out in the garden feeling sorry for himself. His friends were disgusted; they'd been sure he'd at least have the spine to apologize to Tsukushi himself, but no, it appeared he was too ashamed to face her. On the other hand, he hadn't retreated into booze and loose women this time around, so at least that might be counted as some form of improvement.  
  
Tsukushi managed to maintain her splendid self-isolation, and even Akira remarked that the way she seemed to have shut her emotions away reminded him most strongly of the way Rui once had been. She continued to refuse to speak to either of the F2 (Rui and Akira) beyond minimal greetings. Rui might have been tempted to say something, but he felt that it wasn't his place to interfere in this particular drama. Or rather, much as he might wish to talk some sense into the girl, he doubted that she would listen. He had instead, to content himself with glaring pointedly at Soujiro whenever their paths crossed, as if such meaningful glances would finally spur the other boy into taking action.  
  
Tsukasa didn't go to school. He had no time for such frivolities these days. Instead, he worked from his home office, overseeing a vast influx of paperwork relating to the upcoming company merger, as well as that dealing with a much less important hostile takeover of a small consumer electronics firm. He was almost grateful for the spate of work, for it prevented him from dwelling too much on his recent disturbing encounters with Amon, and on the more disturbing fact that he often caught himself wondering when he would encounter the other man again. He tried to convince himself that he just worried about it, as one would worry about ways to avoid a particularly hated enemy, but that thought no longer rang true. That was, perhaps, the most disturbing fact of all. Some part of him, no matter how small, wanted to see Amon again; was curious about what he would pull next time; what secrets those dark eyes would reveal. Yes, despite himself, Tsukasa was finally becoming intrigued. If Amon had known this, he would have been delighted with the progress.  
  
However, Amon had no inkling of the inner workings of Tsukasa's mind at this juncture, and instead, occupied himself with work, and with meeting Shigeru in the most public of locales. Here they would chat, flirt, touch -- in general, putting on a good show for the SP's that Shigeru was sure were watching. Soon, they were sure, Kaede would force Tsukasa to intervene in what she would perceive as a shameful and illicit affair. Meantime, the co- conspirators disported themselves -- Shigeru occasionally attempting to make a move on Amon, and Amon coolly rebuffing her in his usual frustrating manner. ..  
  
Thus, for a few short days, a sort of emotional holding pattern was established. Tsukasa totally forgot, or ignored, Akira's injunction to call Shigeru, and since he never went to school, he had no clue what had happened between Tsukushi and Soujiro. At any rate, it was unclear what it would mean to him if he had known. After all, she was an ex; an ex he currently was avoiding. Of course, that's not even getting into the avoidance issues and emotional barricade that she had caused him to develop. So, no one dared to call and inform him on their own, despite Akira's agitated hints from before. It was Rui, in the end, who decided that something had to be done.  
  
Tsukasa got the call in his office late that Thursday.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Tsukasa. Don't hang up." Rui's voice, as ever, was calm.  
  
"Why not?" Tsukasa was irritated, but, strangely enough, he found that the sound of Rui's voice didn't bother him now nearly as much as it had when his friend had tried to call him in New York. Maybe the return to familiar surroundings had actually done some good; allowed him to forget some of the cold aching loneliness that had driven him to wall himself away in the first place. (Or maybe, it was some perverse effect that Amon had had on him -- resulting, perhaps, from the way he helped to catalyze huge releases of Doumyouji's negative energy. Then again, it might have resulted from the fact that Tsukasa's pain was eased by the subconscious recognition and acceptance of the knowledge that someone cared for him; even if it was someone as fucked up and distasteful as Amon). At any rate, Tsukasa felt oddly calm as he let Rui draw him into a genuine conversation for the first time in months.  
  
Even Rui hadn't been entirely sure what Tsukasa's reaction to the news was going to be, but he had counted on the fact that Tsukasa was at heart a good person, and on his sneaking suspicion that Tsukasa wanted some form of reconciliation as much as Tsukushi had. True, they could never go back again to what they once had, but Rui didn't want them to. He merely wanted to find someone to talk to Tsukushi; someone she couldn't shut away like she'd shut out all her other friends. Someone who knew what it was like to be in her position. .. And That person was Doumyouji.  
  
If anyone could break through her emotional wall, it would be him.  
  
If, of course, he was willing to make the effort.  
  
Rui needn't have worried in that regard. Five minutes into the sordid tale, and he could almost hear Tsukasa's defenses cracking. All the empathy and concern that Tsukasa had walled away for so long, broke through. Rui could sense the tidal wave of feeling sweeping away Tsukasa's justifications for not seeking Tsukushi, for not trying to reacquaint himself with her as a friend. His resolve to leave her alone, his belief that she hated him -- it was instantly forgotten by the impetuous boy, He had to see her, had to make sure she was all right. Whether she wanted to see him or not. He no longer cared. But first, he wanted to go pound Soujiro into a broken pile of pulped bones and flesh. It took Rui another good twenty minutes of impassioned reasoning to talk him out of that scheme.  
  
And so it was, that, in the spreading twilight of an April evening, a strangely subdued Tsukasa found himself walking down the streets of Tokyo, attempting to use his special 'Tsukushi-radar' sense to find out where it was that elusive girl had found her new employment.  
  
Tsukushi was working alone behind the counter at her new job in the ice cream parlor, when a painfully familiar voice jolted her from her reverie.  
  
"Hello Makino." Tsukasa spoke quietly from his seat by the door. Tsukushi hadn't even heard him come in, so wrapped up had she been by her inner turmoil.  
  
"D. . . Doumyouji?" Makino stuttered uncertainly, not quite willing to trust her eyes, her ears.  
  
"Have a seat Makino." Tsukasa waved at the empty shop, as if to indicate that no one was going to interrupt their little chat.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked coolly, as she took a seat across the table from him. Though taken off guard by his sudden appearance, she was willing to believe that nothing good could come from this meeting. But in that, she was mistaken.  
  
Tsukasa gave her a long searching stare, as if trying to gauge her mood. Tsukushi looked calm, composed, and utterly unhappy. Much like himself. And that's when the words spilled out, before he could help himself. "Now you know what it feels like."  
  
Tsukushi blinked as if she couldn't believe she'd heard right. A long silence ensued, as she gazed down at her curled fists resting in her lap. At last, she looked up and met Doumyouji's eyes steadily. "I deserved that." She stated quietly, "Is that why you came here? To rub salt in my wounds?"  
  
"No." Tsukasa flushed and looked away, suddenly ashamed of himself. Sighing, he admitted, "Actually, I came to see if you needed a shoulder to cry on." When he was able to meet Tsukushi's eyes again, he was blushing furiously, as if he couldn't believe the sappy words he'd just spoken.  
  
"Oh." Tsukushi paused again, "Thank you, Doumyouji, but I've decided, I'm not going to cry this time. I made a mistake, and I'm just going to have to live with it Still, I'm stronger now. I'm not going to cry anymore." She let out a short, joyless laugh, as she thought silently, "But that doesn't mean I'm able to smile anymore, either. . . "  
  
"You were always stronger than me." Tsukasa murmured, "I never could break you. Never could tame you. You were always too strong for me, but I never understood that, until it was too late."  
  
Their gazes locked, as Tsukasa willed her to believe his sincerity, that he understood his mistakes now, and could finally admit he had been wrong. It was as close to an apology as he was capable of coming.  
  
"No," Tsukushi replied brokenly, "You're wrong. You were stronger than me in the end. When you left, my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Only you could ever do that to me. Only you could ever touch me so deeply. But, then.. . . he. . . Soujiro was there for me. He never asked anything from me after that. . . one time." It was almost as if Tsukushi was trying to justify herself to him, '"He was just there when I needed a comforting shoulder. He had to force me to eat for weeks. I couldn't sleep unless he was there. And when I'd wake crying in the night, he was there to catch me. I thought. . . I thought he needed me too. . . Guess I was wrong, Huh?" Tsukushi grimaced sadly, "But no one ever said life was fair." She looked up into Tsukasa's shocked face. It was evident that no one had ever informed him of the true extent of her breakdown. Not that she blamed them; she had a hard enough time dealing with the memories of that time, herself.  
  
It was obviously time to change the subject. She didn't want to dwell on this anymore, and it was doubtlessly a topic that could only make Tsukasa more uncomfortable. She attempted to add a note of cheer to her voice, as she spoke again, but it couldn't help but ring false. "So. . . How are you doing? No one seems to know. Are you ok? Are you going back to New York?" Will you, can you, talk to me?  
  
"Makino." Tsukasa began, his face growing even more serious than it had been. "I've been behaving like an idiot."  
  
Tsukushi blinked again, shocked by the admission -- though she, perhaps, was no more shocked than Tsukasa by the words which had just slipped out. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to continue.  
  
". . .When my mother called me into her office last month, and told me I had to marry Shigeru to seal this stupid hotel alliance, I was furious. All I could think of was how to end the engagement before it had even begun. . . You have to understand, my parents had an arranged marriage. It was this alliance that made the Doumyouji corporation what it is today. My parents didn't care for each other then. They still don't. Our family has always been a business arrangement. You know as well as I do, that I'm not a person to the bitch -- just the company heir! I couldn't face the idea of ending up like them. They have no life with each other! Even when we're all in the same house, we're not a family! I want more than that for myself! Is that so hard to understand? I wanted to marry for love. Fuck the dynastic effort! . . . .But you wouldn't have me, and I am my company's son. I had no choice. . . so when they said, "You must marry Shigeru," what was the first thing I did? I acted like Them. I don't have to like marrying her, but I think. .. I should try to be at least, fiends with her? I know it's not what she wants. . . I can't give her that. . . still. . ." Doumyouji looked away again, as the blush returned to color his cheeks, "Could you talk to her for me?"  
  
Tsukushi blinked. Was this really Tsukasa? When had he become so mature? When had he gained such powers of articulation? Had the months in New York, the effects of being forced to assume such responsibility really changed him this much? He was acting more mature than she'd ever seen him, and it would have been a pleasant change, under better circumstances. Hastily, she recovered herself enough to answer his final question.  
  
"Of course. But that wasn't the question I asked." She persisted, "How are YOU?" It was easier to retain her calm and collected mask when he was the one being scrutinized and not herself.  
  
"I. . .I" Tsukasa looked away, and his low voice barely carried across the table to reach Tsukushi's ears, "I've been lost since you left me. I didn't know who I was supposed to be without you to show me. And I didn't like myself very much. When I went to New York, It was a sort of escape. I didn't have to be me anymore. Instead, I was the company. I didn't have to feel a thing . . . and. . .I hated it!" Tsukasa's voice grew fierce, "I hated every miserable fucking second of those five months! Then I came back here, and I saw what I was missing. .. But I still don't know who Am I Supposed To Be?" His hoarse voice carried with it a near desperate plea, weighted all the more by what he left unsaid. . .  
  
Tsukushi could hear the anguished confusion and loss in his voice, but she had no idea of Amon's role in adding to Doumyouji's self-doubt, and so, she only had one answer for him. "Just be who you are. Whatever your heart tells you. You are the man who pursues his dreams and wants to be happy. You're the man I loved, even when I couldn't stand the sight of you. You're the man I believe in to do what's right. . . even though it may take far longer than I'd like, to reach that conclusion."  
  
Even as she spoke, Tsukushi could feel her eyes start to mist over. Damn It! She refused to cry over Soujiro, and now here she was tearing up over Doumyouji again. So bloody typical. She didn't want him to see her crying, so she got to her feet, and, greatly daring, brushed a chaste kiss across Doumyouji's forehead, before turning to go back to work. But she'd hardly got more than one step away before Tsukasa's iron grip locked around her wrist, to pull her down onto his lap, where Tsukasa proceeded to give the resisting girl a long, slow, sweet kiss.  
  
"I never got to say goodbye properly." He explained simply after it was done. "Goodbye. . . .And. . . Thank you." It was an official end to the past, an admission that now; now after they had made their separate confessions, and laid their history to rest, they could begin again as friends.  
  
Now, finally, Tsukushi did break down and cry. Sitting in his lap, clutching his shoulders as if they offered salvation, and drenching his chest with heavy sobs, Tsukushi unburdened herself of the pain she'd been storing up inside since Soujiro's betrayal.  
  
Uncertainly at first, Tsukasa's arms went around her. Eventually, they held her more decisively, as he gave what comfort he could to the only girl that understood him enough to give him back the self confidence he'd lost. . .  
  
To be continued.  
  
~~~shit. I can't believe that I've had that T/T scene written for over 2 months. I wasn't going to type it up, since it's kinda ooc and weird, but I'm too lazy right now to come up with an alt scene. (not to mention that my days are hosed with lab, and my nights split between the never-ending quest for a roommate, and the brainfry that is the Hunt. Ah well.. . Hardly anyone likes this fic anyway, though it seems you continue to read with the sick fascination usually reserved for car crashes -- you don't want to see the amon/tsukaa axxxion, but you just can't look away. Let your eyes slide quickly over the slash, as it spreads across the page like fresh blood on the pavement; not really seeing, yet drinking in the scene nonetheless.. . .yeh. that's why I continue to write despite the poor response. I can't look away any more than you can.~~~ 


	24. well, what did you expect?

Doumyouji sat in his office plowing through the endless piles of paperwork. It was midmorning Friday, and he couldn't get yesterday out of his mind. He'd actually spoken to Tsukushi. A real conversation, without yelling, or accusations. The circumstances could have -- should have -- been better, but at least this time, it wasn't his fault. And, despite it all, despite that fact that Tsukushi had been miserably unhappy, Tsukasa had left with a warm glow spreading through him. It was beginning to feel like life might be OK, that it might really be worth continuing to be human. If he could come to any kind of reconciliation with Tsukushi after their horrible breakup, then perhaps his existence wasn't that bad. In this more peaceful, more cheerful frame of mind, Tsukasa breezed through his stacks of status updates, requisitions, and budget summaries. He felt like today he might be able to take on anything, even the twin problems of his relationships (or whatever you might want to call them) with Shigeru and Amon.  
  
Still, it was hard to concentrate on these matters, when his brain kept referring him back to his encounter with Makino.  
  
"Just be yourself." She'd said, "Do what feels right. That's who you are. Who you've always been." But what felt right? What did he want to do? Tsukasa wished he was more sure. On the one hand, he wanted to make some form of reconciliation with Shigeru. But he didn't love her, and he wasn't sure how he could approach her as a would-be friend. Especially given that they were to be married one day, anything he might do or say could be misconstrued, or could serve to make an already uncomfortable situation more confusing. Maybe he should just be blunt, and tell Shigeru what he'd told Tsukushi -- after all, Makino had seemed to understand, and the direct approach was far more his style than some pansy-ass tiptoeing around the issues. . . But first, he should give Tsukushi a chance to sound out Shigeru and determine what that girl was truly feeling beneath her cheerful exterior.  
  
And then there was Amon.  
  
Tsukasa looked up from his desk and stared out from the window, lost in thought. The man infuriated him. . . but then, there was something about him that called to Tsukasa. It was disturbing, unnatural, and it made Tsukasa queasy just thinking about it, but it was there. Some claim that like attracts like, but natural laws say that like repulses like. Perhaps both were true. Tsukasa knew that if he didn't break past Amon's taunting games and sardonic laughter to the heart of the matter, then he would never really understand the stakes of the game. And if he didn't even try, then he would forever be wondering what he had missed out on. It couldn't be love. It could never be love -- not with a man as callused as Amon, but it might still be something important, something critical, something that Tsukasa needed for the completeness of his soul.  
  
It was wrong, and he knew he shouldn't want to see where this road might lead. But on the other hand, it had been wrong to pursue Tsukushi as well, and still he would do that all over again if he had the chance. It would be just as wrong not to try this now. And if he stumbled, and if he fell, well that too was part of who he was-- he could accept his mistakes along with any triumphs. He would fight when he was angry, and smile when he was happy. He would embrace his humanity once more, and reject the drone that he had become.  
  
Somehow, some way, he would relearn who he was, and if it took Amon to help him, then so be it.  
  
Tsukasa sighed, as he watched the trees outside swaying in the breeze. He dreamed of love, but it always seemed to escape his grasp. Perhaps he tried too hard, set his goals too high. Maybe there was some truth in what Akira and Soujiro had always used to say-- that love was not always necessary. Sometimes affection was enough. . . or maybe only the embodiment of life's flame that was the heat of passion.  
  
Abruptly Tsukasa found his mind wandering off topic again Thoughts of love always brought him back to Tsukushi. He remembered how she'd clung to him and cried, yesterday, sobbing as though she could never stop, as though her broken heart released an infinite flood of tears. He hadn't known she had that much liquid in her. But it wasn't the tears alone that had got to him, it was the mental picture of what the two of them must have looked like, that remained forever printed upon his mind's eye. He could imagine it still: the two of them, in an intimate-seeming embrace, Tsukushi sitting on his lap, her arms around his neck, their bodies pressed tightly together, as she cried against his chest. From a distance it would have looked like a lover's embrace -- Not that of one friend comforting another. He could see it exactly, and worse, he knew just where he'd seen such a scene before. Months ago, Sakurako's party, on the porch, Tsukushi and Soujiro. Oh he knew now, exactly what that had been; Tsukushi crying the exact same broken- hearted tears over him that she now cried over Soujiro. The irony was amazing. It all was his fault, if he hadn't misinterpreted everything then, he might've not lost her completely, might not have driven her to Soujiro. . . .  
  
Tsukasa shrugged. Regret. He had plenty of that, but he'd sworn to do better in future. You couldn't change the past, you could only move on. He hated the pain that he had caused Makino both directly and indirectly, but now all he could do was be the best friend to her that he could, and thus ease her present hurts.  
  
He stood up, looked at his piled papers, and shrugged again. He'd done enough work for his morning. His friends were waiting, he should see to them.  
  
-----  
  
Tsukushi was dully, dutifully picking at her lunch out on the emergency stairs when Rui sat down beside her and opened up a book. He didn't say anything. But then, he didn't need to. Tsukushi nodded up at him in greeting and went back to mutilating her meal. The two sat companionably in the sunlit stairs, as Rui surreptitiously eyed Tsukushi over the rim of his book. She still looked bad, but some of her color seemed to have returned. He wondered what Tsukasa had said to her, or if she would even tell him what had transpired, and what the chances of getting the information out of Tsukasa were. Luckily, he didn't have to wait that long to find out.  
  
Tsukasa wandered in through the school gates, feeling out of place, as he meandered through the grounds of Eitoku. Irritably, he shook off the discomfort; he wasn't here to reminisce about the school, he was here to see his friends. Akira, Rui, Tsukushi. . . Soujiro. Tsukasa came to the foot of the emergency stairs and looked up. Sure enough, Tsukushi and Rui both sprawled there, each seeming to ignore the other.  
  
"Yo." He called up in his old imperiously booming voice.  
  
"Hey," Tsukushi weakly replied, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. She was dreadfully embarrassed that she fell apart on him yesterday. Hopefully he wouldn't bring it up.  
  
Rui just nodded as Tsukasa climbed the steps to where they say.  
  
"Ugh. What is that shit?" Tsukasa pointed at the shredded remains of Tsukushi's lunch.  
  
"Food." Tsukushi murmured.  
  
"Looks disgusting."  
  
"Are you trying to provoke me?" She tried to stop herself, but Tsukushi was already getting angry. So, the response to her demand was rather unexpected.  
  
"Yes." Tsukushi looked blankly up into Tsukasa's grinning face, "Silly woman, don't take everything so personally!" he poked her forehead in remonstration, while Tsukushi turned steadily redder. Behind them, Rui laughed quietly.  
  
"I'd watch out if I were you." He cautioned.  
  
"Nah. . " Tsukasa drawled, "I can take her." He reached out and snagged a not-too mangled morsel from Tsukushi's lunch and popped it into his mouth.  
  
Tsukushi blinked slowly, opened her mouth as if she had something to say, closed it again. . . Sure she hadn't known what to expect seeing Tsukasa again, but this? Why was he being so annoying?  
  
"You look like a fish." Tsukasa taunted, munching more of her food.  
  
". . . Why you. . You. . ." Tsukushi stuttered.  
  
". . . Hmmm? Rui, did you hear anything?"  
  
"Arghh!!!" Tsukushi got to her feet and started yelling, "You idiot! What the hell are you doing!? Why are you being so annoying? Can't I just eat my lunch in peace? What do I have to do to get some quiet around here? You think you can just walk in here and insult me and steal my food and get away with it? Why you. . ."  
  
"Is that steam coming out her ears?" Rui quietly remarked.  
  
"I think so." That was Akira; he'd heard Tsukushi yelling from down the hall, and had come to investigate.  
  
"What do you expect, you silly woman? I don't think I've ever seen beets as red as your face."  
  
"What is going on here?" Akira remarked sotto voce to Rui as Tsukushi and Tsukasa continued to hurl insults at each other.  
  
'Therapy, I think" Rui murmured back.  
  
"Therapy?" Akira's eyes widened, "And since when are they talking anyway?"  
  
"Doesn't she look better?" Rui only answered the first question.  
  
"Well, yeah. But. . ."  
  
"She thrives when she's mad."  
  
"I see. . . And nothing makes her madder than. . ."  
  
Rui nodded, as comprehension dawned in Akira's eyes, "Exactly."  
  
"But when?. . ." Akira persisted.  
  
"Yesterday." Tsukasa's loud voice cut through the two boys' whispered conversation. Akira looked up guiltily to see Tsukasa glaring down at him, while a flushed and hoarse Tsukushi leaned back to regard him curiously. "You bastard." Tsukasa continued, "You knew! And you didn't tell me! I should kick your ass for that."  
  
"I told you to ask Shigeru." Akira protested, "Didn't you?"  
  
"You should have just told me yourself, you fucking wimp."  
  
"Oh, come on!" Akira frowned at the insult. "Just because you were too much of a baby to talk to anyone, yourself. . . . Don't pin your failings on me."  
  
"Guys!" Tsukushi cut in, "No fighting!"  
  
"Yes, Mistress." It was Rui who answered laughingly, "Only you and Tsukasa are allowed to yell. Akira hurts my ears."  
  
It was almost like old times. Almost but not quite. Tsukushi was still quieter and sadder than usual. Tsukasa wasn't blushing every time he looked at her -- which was a good thing, it was about time he moved on, but still, it altered the dynamic. . . And of course, they were missing a critical component of their group. Soujiro's absence was felt by all, though, undoubtedly, most acutely by Tsukushi.  
  
From where he sat hidden in the garden below, Soujiro could hear his friends' voices on the wind. Wistfully, he listened for Tsukushi's voice, trying to identify the nuances in the sound. She was better off without him, better off with Rui or Tsukasa, he reasoned. Better that she never see him, that she forget he ever cared for her. It would be better for them all that way. Soujiro sighed, and slunk off into he street beyond. There was no point in staying at school a moment longer. But he couldn't help pausing a moment more for the last shreds of Tsukushi's voice.  
  
No, it was better this way, better for her to make a new start. . . but even so, he missed her terribly, selfishly. . . missed her with every fibre of his being.  
  
Soujiro turned away and, his mind made up, headed for the club district, to try and forget her the only way he knew how.  
  
To be continued.  
  
~~~Ok, first, I'd like to apologize for the slow updates on all my fics. But it is summer, which means I'm off having a life and avoiding my computer, so you'll just have to deal.  
  
Second: I do have a known endpoint for this fic, I'm just having trouble getting there. But I will. I swear. It'll be nice to be done.  
  
Third: I'm still amazed by the dreadfully mixed reviews, so I'm going to resort to my old stock phrase, "If you don't like it, don't read it. And then go write something you do."  
  
Fourth: the pairings. And an explanation. Yes yes, this is an S/T fic. So why the drama? A convenient way to get T and T talking again. and that's a good thing yes? Plus, I maintain that it's not in character for S to remain faithful. so he had to stray. And Y is an idiot. She deserves to get fucked over. Likewise, Akira is not the type to stay with one girl, especially given that he's like a senior in HS and going off to college next year. Hardly anyone keeps their HS significant others in college. Ok, and then there's T/A/ Sh. The not-quite a love triangle of doom, as it were. We're going to have the promised T/A goodness. (nothing too graphic I swear, this is pg13 after all). And A/Sh. I doubt we'll see T/Sh. They make a rotten couple. But all of that's a long way off in the fic that never ends. We will get the S/T resolution sooner, and then I can go back to my main plot. So. . . the explanation. I consider writing a quasi-plausible A/T fic to be a personal challenge, so I refuse to give it up, despite the hate mail I been getting.. I find it amusing, even though I'm definitely failing on the plausibility front. Oh well.  
  
Right, I shut up now. You don't need to read my babbling any more. ~cm~~~ 


	25. visitation

Tsukushi trudged wearily home from work. Her new job was ok, she supposed; there was nothing wrong with working in an ice cream parlor. But it was lonely being by herself when there were no customers, and sometimes she felt that the tubs of creamy goodness were tempting her --calling her to just try a little of this flavor, or that one-- temptations she felt her waistline could ill-afford. Still, it was a job. The money was good, and the setting didn't remind her of Yuki. . . and her . . . Tsukushi was too forgiving to quite call it a betrayal, so she finally settled on. . .error.  
  
Whatever. Tsukushi resolutely lifted her chin. It was true; she couldn't rely on anyone but herself. She could accept the friendship that others -- that Doumyouji -- offered, but to rely on it to keep her heart from further damage? That she could not do.  
  
She could however, forgive. And she hoped that in time, she could learn to forget that she ever believed Soujiro loved her. Maybe then they could be friends. After all, if she could reconcile with Doumyouji, then anything was possible, right?  
  
Dusk was falling as Tsukushi stumbled up the dimly lit stairs to her apartment.  
  
"Susumu, I'm home!" she called out, as she pushed the door closed behind her. Strangely, when Susumu answered her, it sounded as if his voice were coming from the kitchen, instead of from their bedroom as usual.  
  
"Hey Sis. . . You have a visitor." His voice was tight, as if he were struggling to repress excitement or stress in his tone.  
  
"Who is it?. . . Oh!" Tsukushi made her way to the cramped kitchen, gasping with recognition as she saw the woman who sat at her rickety table, daintily sipping tea from a chipped cup. Hastily, Tsukushi summed up a smile, and greeted her guest brightly, "Mrs. Nishikado! What can I do for you?" Sure, she was confused, but that was no reason to be rude to such a surprise visitor. "Would you care for something to eat? Can I get you anything?" And, of course, Tsukushi's nervousness at this intrusion into her home made her babble like a maniac.  
  
Mrs. Nishikado sat patiently and waited for Tsukushi to wind down. The expression on her face was quite similar to the one she often wore while indulging in her youngest son's prattle.  
  
"Miss Makino." She began at last, eyeing the girl severely, "What has happened between you and my son?"  
  
"Umm. . . err, what?" Tsukushi blinked stupidly. She hadn't known what she was expecting her guest to ask. But this was not it. She didn't mean to be rude to the older woman, but she was momentarily stunned into silence and couldn't reply.  
  
Mrs. Nishikado sighed and regarded Tsukushi intently. She hadn't known what to think of the girl at first, when she'd first started showing up at the Nishikado estate at all hours of the day (and night.) In the beginning, she'd been under the impression that the girl was dating the Doumyouji boy, but she'd soon learned the error of that assumption. . . . More strange was the way her son changed around Makino. While he still frequently didn't come home until morning, he'd somehow started to seem less angry when he was around. He hadn't yelled at his father as much, and he'd been nicer to his mother. . . . Mrs. Nishikado had begun to wonder how Makino had wrought this change, and had investigated her background extensively. She'd been quite surprised to learn how poor the girl was. . . but, Anything that made her son happy was something she could approve of. She'd been even more delighted when the two had started dating, and Soujiro stopped drinking so heavily. It was something of a comfort to know that when he was out all night, he was with one person -- even if she still didn't approve of the illicit activities she suspected, it was still better than what her son had used to be like.  
  
And then, Something had happened. Her son was moping around, acting like a fool, and wouldn't tell her a thing. Not that he ever did. But she was sick of being in the dark about her own son's life. The family had too much unhappiness and too many dark secrets behind their veneer of respectability. She was sick of it, and this time, though Soujiro might accuse her of being a meddlesome old woman, she intended to do something about it.  
  
That something started here and now, with this conversation, although the seeds had been planted several weeks ago when she had received a strange phone call. . . .  
  
"Let me tell you a story." Mrs. Nishikado spoke abruptly, and waited for Tsukushi to focus on her once more, "I got a call the other day, from an old acquaintance of mine. Doumyouji Kaede. I believe you know her." Tsukushi nodded jerkily, "Now, normally I do not believe in spreading gossip, but as this concerns you, I thought it only proper to relay the details to you."  
  
The relevant portion of the conversation had gone something like this:  
  
". . . It has come to my attention that your family is associating with, shall we say, undesirable elements?" Kaede sounded as snide as ever.  
  
"Indeed? Of whom do you speak?" At first, she had been certain that Kaede had called to point out another of her husband's illicit trysts.  
  
"Her name is Makino Tsukushi. This girl caused my fool son no end of trouble to get rid of. If you don't want your family name shamed by the association, I'd advise you to get rid of the nuisance as soon as possible."  
  
"Really? She seems like a nice enough young lady to me." Nishikado was getting angrier by the second at the other's meddling in her family's affairs, but like any well-bred woman she was too polite to show it.  
  
"Don't be deceived." Kaede's voice could have flash frozen boiling water, "My advice to you would be to marry your son off as soon as possible, to keep him out of further trouble .just as I have done with mine."  
  
At this, Mrs. Nishikado snorted silently. As if anything short of death could keep Doumyouji Tsukasa out of trouble. She especially resented Kaede's inference that marriage could solve anything. She'd been married off at an early age, after all. And look where it had gotten her -- an unhappy marriage, a faithless husband, and three unruly emotionally stunted sons. Oh no, she would have laughed at Kaede. But nobody laughed at Kaede to her face. Instead, she mustered hr own calm and replied equally coolly, "Thank you for your concern. But I think I can handle my own family business. In fact, I should suggest that you reconsider your information. You have obviously heard incorrect information concerning Miss Makino. If anything, her relationship with my son has improved his attitude considerably," and from what the other gossips say, it was her who turned your son around too, and Not any of your doing, she added silently. "I count my son as mature enough to make his own decisions for the good of the family, without forcing him into any hasty matches." She emphasized the last words, thinking on the unseemly haste of the Doumyouji-Okawahara match. Besides, who in their right mind married kids off as teenagers these days? She planned to wait until Soujiro was done with university before saddling him with a wife and all the responsibility that would entail.  
  
The conversation had gone on a bit after that, with both sides feeling slighted by the other, but each too proud to say anything. In the end, Ms. Nishikado had rung off, feeling that Kaede was an ignorant meddler who didn't know a good thing if it came up and bit her in the ass. She had been confident that events would prove that she, not the elitist Doumyoujis would be proven right by future events.  
  
But then it had all come apart. Something had happened to send Soujiro spiraling into the blackest depression she'd ever witnessed. And Makino hadn't been by even once this week, neither in the day, nor creeping in late at night.  
  
Mrs. Nishikado was worried. Worried enough to stoop to visiting Tsukushi in the closet she called a home to find out what was going on. Her family was important to her, and her sons' happiness most of all. As a mother, she was determined to do whatever was in her power, to help her children. But for that to happen, she first needed to know what had happened.  
  
She stated her request for information once more, and this time, Tsukushi managed to stammer out a coherent reply.  
  
Eventually, Soujiro's mother nodded, satisfied with the information she had received.  
  
"Alas, it runs in the family. . . .I can not ask you to forgive my son, but. . .I would ask for you not to hate him. He needs you more than he can admit. . . Please, I would not ask you to do this if I knew a better way, but will you see him?"  
  
Tsukushi stared, aghast at the older woman. How could she sit there and ask Tsukushi to confront the source of her own unhappiness? It was obvious that she wanted her to forgive Soujiro, to take him back, just as Mrs. Nishikado had taken back Soujiro's father after each of his trysts. Tsukushi wasn't sure she could do that. But the older woman had a point, it was no good to leave it like this, with so much unsaid between them -- so much silence where once there had been a meeting of the hearts. If nothing else, Tsukushi had to know -- needed to understand why: what had gone wrong, why she had been so suddenly abandoned by the man she loved, and why he now was hiding in a silent hell of his own imagining.  
  
What else could she do? Tsukushi nodded slowly, agreeing to Mrs. Nishikado's request. Together, they rose and left the apartment: two lonely women under a dark and starless sky.  
  
To be continued.  
  
~~~Man oh man it's hard to type after scraping nasty paint off the floor. (why the floor is painted I'll never know -- but having decided that I want to refinish the wood, I'm now subjected to the joy of RSI! I have no idea where this chapter came from. Or why. But here it is..~~~ 


	26. Why?

~~~three false starts later, the chapter is finally done. you have no idea. Every time I got an anti-A-T review, I went back to work on a distinctly unsavory alternate for this chapter. Luckily for the squeamish, I figured out what to do for this S-T chapter on the T coming home today, so the S-T-A goodness will be next time! Not today. So sad.~~~

Tsukushi approached the closed door with trepidation. 

"Courage!" she muttered to herself, "Where's that weed power when I need it?" Plainly, it was trapped beneath the furiously wriggling demons that were cramping her stomach and causing her knees to shake. She was afraid of what could happen behind that door-- what the answers to her questions might be. . . . She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear his reasons, his justifications for what he did. That is; if Soujiro even had anything to say for himself at all. 

Nevertheless, she was here now, and Mrs. Nishikado was not-so-subtly lurking down the hallway awaiting the outcome of this little tete-a-tete. There seemed little choice.

Tsukushi took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Soujiro's room was dark. The shades were drawn, and the lights were off. Tsukushi stood in the open doorway a moment, adjusting to the dimness within. Soujiro was an indistinct blob across the room; he appeared to be slumped over his desk. The air seemed stale, and, Tsukushi sniffed, there was the unmistakable odor of alcohol-- organic and ketone-y -- it made Tsukushi want to sneeze. This did not bode well.

Soujiro hardly even twitched when he heard the door swing open. He didn't bother to look up as he growled,

"Go away, Mother! How many times do I have to tell you to keep your nose out of my business!" Obviously, he wasn't expecting Makino. How could he be?

"I'd like to think this concerns me." Tsukushi replied cautiously, as she slipped into the room, softly closing the door behind her. In the gloom, she couldn't see Soujiro's face. She hoped that this inability would make his encounter hurt less. 

"Tsukushi?!" Soujiro jerked as if struck. If Tsukushi could have seen his eyes in that moment, she would have glimpsed a flash of nearly overwhelming panic, as if the boy were about to flee out the nearest window. However, he did nothing, frozen into immobility as he was, by the soporific effects of too much rum, and by the desolate inertia of a man who believes he has nothing left to lose.

"Soujiro." Tsukushi whispered softy, as her ability to speak failed her. What had she come here to say? How could she even dream of asking him. . . 

"Why, Soujiro? Why did you have to make me love you?" the words burst forth from her spasming throat, even as a fresh wave of misery coruscated across her face.

When Soujiro failed to reply after several seconds, Tsukushi continued, even though, to her, her voice sounded strangled and weak, "I could have coped, you know, if this had happened a few months ago. It's not like you spent the winter celibate. . . But why did you have to go and pick Yuki? If it was her you wanted all along, why did you have to make me fall for you?"

"It was never Yuki. I never wanted her." Soujiro denied darkly, but Tsukushi, lost as she was in her own misery, hardly heard him.

"We were fine as 'just friends'? weren't we? I was fine with that. . . but I thought you wanted -- thought you needed-- something more. And I came to want it too. . ." Tsukushi's mournful words suddenly came to an abrupt halt, as she wiped a shaky hand across her forehead, "I'm sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't whine." 

"Tsu. . ." Soujiro started to turn towards the sound of her voice.

". . . no, no. " Tsukushi rambled on, "You don't have to worry. I'm not here to make any demands. If that's it, then that's all. I just. . . I guess, I just wanted to know why-- why you chose Yuki. Why now? Tell me that much at least? I promise, I won't make a fuss. . . I just wish. . . To, you know, see your face once in a while. Or. . ." here her voice dropped to hardly more than a whisper, "Do you not even want to be friends anymore?"

"No!" Soujiro exploded in vehement negation, pounding his fist on the desk and spinning around to face her shadowed figure. "I never wanted her! Only you, Tsukushi, only you. . . . But I thought. . . I thought I'd lost you already. What did I have left to lose?" He shrugged and turned away, back into his self imposed solitude, "So I made a mistake. It wasn't my first one. That was thinking I could change. That I could be the man you wanted me to be. I was wrong Tsukushi, don't you see? I tried and I tried, but-- I couldn't do it, I couldn't change -- not even for the only woman I've ever loved. . . You should leave. You don't need me. Trust me, you're better off alone."

Slowly, Tsukushi sank to the floor, cradling her face between her hands. Even now, when he'd broken her heart for no good reason, she still couldn't prevent the stab of pain that wracked her as she felt his remorse, his pain, his loneliness. ". . But you're not." She took another deep breath as she replayed his words in her mind, "Why?" She asked again, as the rest of his speech registered, "Why did you think that of me?"

Soujiro shrugged helplessly (the movement going unseen by the girl behind him, curled up as she was -- her head resting on her knees, while her arms held her legs tightly to her). ". ..Rui. . . You were with him that day. . . " He trailed off, aware of how lame his own words seemed now, in retrospect. "He always was your best friend! And you lied to me. What was I to think? I didn't know what to think. You were so distant . . "

Tsukushi closed her eyes against the pain in her heart. It was her fault then, her fault as much as his. Wearily, she climbed to her feet, rummaging in her purse as she did so. "It was supposed to be a surprise. I was so scared. But I wanted you to be happy. . . . I wanted us to be happy. Rui held my hand, but it wasn't for him. Only for you . ." Tsukushi whispered the last words, as she hesitantly palmed a small circular pill-case onto the desk in front of Soujiro in illustration of the concept she was too embarrassed to say aloud. 

Even in the dark, Soujiro recognized the object for what it was, and his eyes widened in shock. Too late. It was all too late. He'd cast it all away. Roughly, he pushed the pill-case back to Tsukushi. He had to get her out of there before she twisted the knife any deeper, "It should have been for him." He rasped painfully, "He won't ever fuck up like me. " Soujiro paused and took another slow breath before continuing, almost in a conversational tone of voice, "I've always loved beautiful things, you know. Our family has a vast collection of priceless objets d'art. When I was younger, I used to love to look at them, the way they'd sparkle or shine. The color in the light. But you know what? I always broke them. I was such a careless child, no matter how often I was punished, I had to look, had to touch. . and something precious always ended up broken. Just once, I wanted to have something beautiful. I thought. . . we had something beautiful. . . But I broke it. . . . Again. 

"It's all I ever do. Tsukushi. Don't you see? I break things! I don't think mere glue can fix this! . . . You should go, before I screw up again. It can never work. I'm no good. All I'll ever do is hurt you more. And you deserve better than that."

"You know I can't do that." Tsukushi retorted slowly, "I believe in you. . ."

"Then you're an Idiot!" Soujiro exclaimed, "You think I don't remember how this all began? It was because you thought you could trust me! But that trust was a Lie! I' never deserved it! Listen. . . . Yuki wasn't the first time I fucked up. I didn't screw the others. . .but still. I promised you I wouldn't mess around, and that was a lie. How can you sit there and look at me with those eyes, when everything we were ever based on is a fiction?"

Tsukushi looked down at the floor again, once again at a loss for words. But she couldn't give up now. Not when she felt she was making progress. "It's never to late to start over. . . "

"You don't need me!" Soujiro was almost shouting now. "And I. . .I don't want you here!" If persuasion didn't work to get rid of her, force might.

"But you need me. As much as I need you." 

Soujiro felt the feather-light touch of Tsukushi's hand on his slumped shoulder, as a single tear fell from her eye onto his bowed neck.

"I'll always be there for you, Soujiro. Whether you want me to be, or not. Remember that. If you don't want me as your lover, then I'll be your friend. You can't deny me that." Falling from her lips, these words were more a plea than an ultimatum. 

Soujiro shivered as Tsukushi's hand moved away, "When you're ready to talk again, I'll be there." Tsukushi stated, more confidently than she felt. It hurt. This whole conversation had hurt, but she had to be strong. Strong for herself, as well as him. She'd always been the one to care for others; she couldn't fail now, no matter how that one might push her away, no matter what obstacles and misunderstandings stood in her way.

She had to prevail. Had to make him see, that if he tried, if he hoped, then maybe, maybe they could repair what they once had had. Now that she knew the truth, now that he'd offered up a new glimpse of his warped and unhappy soul-- now she knew. . . 

All she could do, was to try her hardest, and hope for the best.

After all, no matter what, that's the sort of Person She had always been. To triumph against adversity, that was the Makino way. And she would never forget it. No matter how much it hurt to press on, one day at a time.

__

I would do it all again

Lose my way and fall again

Just so I could call again

On the mercy in you

To be continued. 

~~oh looky, another chapter done. thank god. I swear, this fic will have fewer than 40 chapters. Really. Anyway, here is where I insert a shameless plug for my newest ficcy, which I know most of you have already see, but just in case you haven't -- ya'll should go read the angstalicious feast that is Walking Wounded. An AU with a dumb title, I know. But so much tasty despair. Yum!~~~


	27. one, two, three, And Smile!

Idiots27  
  
~~~err. Yeah. I always forget to give credit when I quote shit. I'm a horrible person. The quote at the end of the last chapter is from the song Mercy in You, by Depeche Mode. And in other news, This was supposed to be an Amon-Tsukasa chapter. But guess what, temporal issues with the storyline got in the way. (I had to resolve this stupid S-T shit first, damn it). So. Next time I promise. There's both A-Shigeru, and A-Tsukasa. But NOT this chapter. Ok I should also warn you, I'm zoned out of my mind on cold meds right now, so I have no idea what I'm babbling about. Seriously I couldn't remember wtf the last chapter of walkingwounded actually was about when I woke the next morning. (man these are some good drugs) hell, I barely remembered the fact of writing it in the first place. So I'm not convinced I'm going to remember this one either. Anyway, enough about my silly viral issues. on with the story.~~~  
  
"This is the point where you're supposed to go after her." Soujiro's mother, interfering once more in her son's self -inflicted misery, stood in the open doorway, looking out as if she could see the recently departed figure of Tsukushi getting further and further away.  
  
"What's the point?" Soujiro made no move. "You don't understand anything anyway!"  
  
"The point." Mrs. Nishikado snapped, "Is that I never raised my son to be such an utter imbecile! I understand that much, at least." Her son never gave her the credit she deserved. "Now go, before it's too late."  
  
"I can't" Soujiro stated flatly, turning to face his mother for the first time.  
  
"Can't or won't?"  
  
"I won't do that to her. She's better off alone."  
  
"I don't think you're fit to make that judgement. You've already proven yourself incapable of sense." Mrs. Nishikado replied, her tone acerbic. "Shall I call up the Hanazawas instead, perhaps? Do you think your friend Rui would be interested in Miss Makino's whereabouts now? Or perhaps the Doumyoujis?" Oh yes, she was far more observant and astute then her son would ever give her credit for. But then, mothers often are.  
  
"Do what you want." Soujiro's reply was sullen, but his tone was colored by a hint. . . just a hint, of something -- something that gave his mother hope. Deciding it was time for a strategic withdrawal, she silently closed the door, leaving Soujiro to stew in his own self-contempt for a little while longer.  
  
-----  
  
Tsukushi had not gotten very far. A few streets away from the Nishikado residence, there was a small park with a playground. This time of night, there were no children livening up the place. Instead, the wind rustled mournfully through the trees, dim street lights illuminating the skeletal outlines of the playground, empty, save for a single figure sitting on one of the swings, scuffing her feet in the sand.  
  
Soujiro paused in the shadows, safely hidden from view. His feet had brought him here, as if pulled by some magnetic force. But now, it seemed that force had vanished, and he suddenly found himself frozen, watching the huddled form of the most important girl in his life.  
  
"I tried." Soujiro started, thinking that he'd been spotted. But Tsukushi was simply talking to herself. Unable to stop himself, though knowing he shouldn't, Soujiro listened intently, trying to catch her low words as they drifted towards him in the breeze. "I tried. I really did. . . . What more can I do?"  
  
Tsukushi took a deep breath and looked up at the cloudy sky. There was always more that could be done. More work, more effort, more energy to expend. Did she have that energy? "Why is everything always so hard? And why does it always have to be me? Just once. . . . I wish life could go my way. . . .It's selfish I know. But still. . . would it be so wrong?"  
  
Soujiro cringed behind his tree as her fragmented words reached him. He did this. He caused those tears to fall, he caused that bitterness. He hated himself, and almost he wished Tsukushi would hate him as well, curse him with the spite he deserved. Instead, she forgave. Absorbed the hurt into herself, though her heart might scream with pain-- she would be the strong one.  
  
Abruptly Tsukushi straightened, as if coming to the same realization, herself. "Can't be like this. .. Got to try harder. I can do it. . . . Ok. One. Two. Three. And. .. Smile!" a weak first effort, "Ok, deep breath. And try again!" Still, not enough vigor, not enough enthusiasm. "Oof." Tsukushi stood, while Soujiro watched in amazement. What in bloody hell was she doing now? "Hup!" Surreally, she had started to do jumping jacks, continuing until she was well and truly winded.  
  
"Aahh. Much better." Finally feeling energized, Tsukushi sat back down on her swing. This time, on her "One, two, three, Smile!" she managed to produce a genuine grin. It had always been that way for her. Get the blood flowing, feel life coursing through her veins, and she could banish at least some of the hurt, could bring her fighting spirit back up, could convince herself that she was ready for anything. Including what she was about to do. . .  
  
Tsukushi pulled out her cellphone, took another deep, calming breath, and punched in a number.  
  
"Hi!" she exclaimed brightly, her sincerely cheerful voice at striking odds with the self-pity that had so recently colored her tone. "Mr. Matsuoka? This is Makino Tsukushi, is Yuki around?"  
  
Soujiro's eyes widened. This was one conversation he definitely shouldn't be eavesdropping on. But he couldn't move now, not and risk being seen. He knew he should never have come. Nor could he close his ears to this one- sided conversation.  
  
". . . Hey Yuki!" Tsukushi's bright tone faltered slightly, before she got herself under control, "I. . . No, Yuki. Don't cry. It's ok." Her tone softened, became less bright, more caring, "These things happen. No, I'm not angry. But I' am worried about you. . . . .Really, It's ok, you don't need to apologize. . . .We're still friends. Always. Remember? We promised to be friends always. . . .Listen, do you want to talk? I can come over. .. Yeah, I'll be there in an hour. . . I'll see you then. . . bye!" she hung up the phone and promptly slumped down in her seat as if utterly exhausted, as if that phone call was among one of the hardest things she'd ever done.  
  
"I have to be strong." Tsukushi bit her lip. She wasn't angry any more, but still, forgiveness was so hard. Nevertheless, she had to try. Someone had to be strong, had to pull them all through. And if not her; then who else would do it?  
  
Still. .. As she slowly left the park, she couldn't help but wish that her conversation with Soujiro had gone better. Was even a little positive reinforcement too much to ask for?  
  
Apparently so.  
  
She never even noticed the dark eyes watching her, the bowed figure lurking behind the tree.  
  
Soujiro sighed deeply as she vanished from his sight. Was it any wonder he loved her-- this fragile-seeming girl who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders and yet still seemed to find room in her heart to care for those who hurt her the most.  
  
Was it any wonder, he rationalized harshly, that he didn't want to hurt her any more, that he stayed away, as he should have done in the first place?  
  
But really, he knew the truth -- that he was simply a coward, too ashamed to face the forgiveness and the love shining out of the eyes of the one he'd wronged the most.  
  
Now, there was only one thing left, for his degradation to be complete. To prove himself the utterly worthless cad he'd told Tsukushi he was. He would not follow her, he would not tempt her. They would not be friends.  
  
He had been right all along. Love was a terrible beast, a cruel, cruel hope. It was better off buried and forgotten in the deepest recesses of the heart. Even loneliness hurt less than this.  
  
Soujiro ran one hand across his weary face. When he looked up again, his face was that of a familiar stranger. The mask he used to wear, the smiling happy fool; the teasing suavely ironic playboy, the cultured aristocrat -- it was all back. A come-hither smile, and an easy charm; he could have fooled anyone into thinking he was as shallow and callous as he looked. Only the regret flashing briefly through his eyes told a different story.  
  
He was determined to keep Tsukushi away, as far from him as possible. He didn't care how much it hurt, how much he hated himself afterwards. She'd be happier with Rui-- anybody but him. (With fisted hands, Soujiro fought the surge of jealousy that coursed through him at the idea of Rui and Tsukushi being together. He had forsaken the right to jealousy when he made his decision. It had no place in his heart!).  
  
As Tsukushi went off in one direction, seeking to offer forgiveness and comfort to her fallen friend. Soujiro wandered in the other, heading for the seedy glow of neon; for the smell of smoke and booze, for the world of loose women and lonely nights; a familiar hell-- one with which he was intimately acquainted. . .  
  
---  
  
A week went by. Tsukushi went to school, gossiped with Shigeru and Sakurako -- Tsukasa still had yet to contact Shigeru, but Tsukushi was working on a plan to get the two talking, little suspecting that Shigeru and Amon had a completely separate plan for similar goals. Tsukasa, in fact, would have like to deal with the issue of his estranged fiancee, but he was bogged down in paperwork, and rarely left the office, much less the house. Akira and Rui tried again, without success, to argue sense into Soujiro, but he, armed with a devil-may-care attitude and an insouciant grin that went no further than his lips, let their words slide off him, as if they meant nothing.  
  
At night, he frequented old haunts, drinking heavily, breathing in the smoke, trying to forget the way Tsukushi had used to find him in these places and literally drag him home. Different days, different depression. She wasn't here now. Though sometimes, he could swear that if he turned around, she would be there, her sad eyes boring into his soul, begging him to change, her arms waiting to embrace him, to forgive him, to give him the acceptance and love he could never give himself.  
  
He never turned around. Never let himself look. He was terrified that his hallucination, that prickling sense of being watched -- would turn out to be true. Instead, he'd turn his attention to his drink, or to some buxom bimbo, and pretend that he felt nothing.  
  
He tried. Oh god how he tried. Flinging himself into his degradation with wild abandon. How many one night stands could he pack into a night? How bad a hangover would he wake with in the morning? The smell of smoke and booze and sex seemed to saturate his clothes, his skin, his hair. . . But slowly, inexorably, he was losing the war.  
  
------  
  
It was nighttime again, the moon high in the sky. Which day was it? Soujiro didn't remember, didn't care. He didn't think he'd ever been in a depression this black, this bleak, this complete. He deserved it. Still, the bars loved his custom; the women he fucked worshipped him. Other men glared in jealousy at his stunning good looks, the way their girlfriends ogled him, and flirted. But it meant nothing to him. He wanted none of it. And though he tried to fight it, tried to hold himself back, on this one night, he couldn't stop his feet from carrying him away from it all.  
  
Soujiro stopped outside a painfully familiar building, hating himself even more for the impulse that brought him here, now, smelling like sin, reeking of debauchery. Nevertheless, numb fingers reached out for the buzzer, shadowed eyes took in the light shining in the window. And he waited, hating his weakness, his selfishness, but needing to see that familiar face once more.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Soujiro looked up to see Makino Susumu standing in the window glaring down at him, "Do you even know what time it is?"  
  
Mutely, Soujiro shook his head. He had no clue.  
  
"Go away! Leave my sister alone!"  
  
"I need to see her."  
  
"Haven't you done enough?" Susumu was furious; a young boy protecting his family as best he could, "It's past midnight. She's sleeping. And even if she weren't. . . you don't deserve to see her! Asshole!"  
  
"Oh, I completely agree." Soujiro almost laughed. Susumu's hate couldn't even scratch the surface of his own self-disgust.  
  
"Susumu?" A faint, very tired-sounding voice drifted out of the window, "Who's there?"  
  
"Nobody, Sis! Go back to sleep." Susumu called back, "I'm just talking to myself."  
  
"I could have sworn I heard. . ." Tsukushi sleepily stumbled out of bed, blinking at the bright light by which Susumu had been studying.  
  
"Sis, please!" Susumu was almost begging, "It's nobody."  
  
But she had to see for herself. Tsukushi nudged her reluctant brother aside, and gazed out into the dark street below.  
  
"Oh. . ."  
  
"Sis. . ."  
  
"It's ok, Susumu." Tsukushi sighed, patting her brother on the shoulder, "I made a promise. . ." To always be his friend. To be strong. It didn't matter why he was here, didn't matter that the sight of him tore her heart to shreds. She wanted him to be happy. And for that she would do whatever it took.  
  
Susumu shot his sister a glare, letting her know that he simply didn't approve of her actions, but he stood aside and let her buzz in their unexpected visitor.  
  
"Hey." Soujiro, master of inconsequential conversation, suddenly realized he had nothing to say. He couldn't explain why he was here-- the last place he thought he wanted to be, the only place his heart wanted to be. And to say anything else would have been . . .inappropriate. . .  
  
"Hey." Tsukushi too, found herself at a loss for words. She bit her lip and glanced away, desperately trying to think of something to fill the silence. Some reason why he was here. . . hmm. . . Food! Food was the answer to everything. And it was a great way to avoid uncomfortable conversations. "Would you like some tea? Or something else?"  
  
"Sure." Soujiro nodded jerkily, unable to take his eyes off the petite girl dressed in rumpled blue flannel pajamas. His sharp gaze quickly took in the nervous way she rubbed her arms, the exhausted look in her eyes, as if she'd been working herself to the bone, "Tea would be great."  
  
The pair retreated to the kitchen, leaving Susumu to shake his head in dismay at his sister's taste in men.  
  
Soujiro sat at the table, while Tsukushi busied herself in boiling water and finding tea bags. He made no effort to start a conversation -- what could he say-- that he'd wanted to see her? He could tell her again all the reasons she'd be better off without him. But it seemed unnecessarily cruel to do that here. And that wasn't why he'd come anyway.  
  
Tsukushi too, remained silent, afraid that if she opened her mouth, it would be to burden him with confessions she promised herself she would not make. Not to pester him with declarations of love -- a love he had rejected. Not to ask him why he'd come, lest that drive him away, before she could heal his hurts. No, she frowned, there was little enough she could do, except feed him. Well, that was how it all began anyway, the inextricable connection between these two and food. It was only appropriate than when all else had been cast aside, the food remained. Tsukushi sighed, wishing that the boy seated at her table would talk to her as they had used to talk. But luck was not with her. So instead, she simply rummaged in the fridge and in the cupboards and began preparing a late night snack. It was actually more like a dinner. One glance at Soujiro had told her all she needed to know --he probably hadn't eaten properly in weeks. He never did when he was depressed.  
  
All was silent except for the homey sounds of domesticity. Tsukushi tried hard to ignore the penetrating haze that followed her every move, feeling profoundly uncomfortable in this silence. Silence that once between the two had seemed so comfortable so familiar. For then, it had been the silence of trust, while now it was the silence of two strangers.  
  
"Eat." Tsukushi ordered, when the food was done.  
  
"Tsukushi .. .You didn't have to do this. . ." Soujiro protested, even as the delightful odors of Makino's cooking reminded him just how starved he really was.  
  
"You need it." Tsukushi spoke more firmly now. This was all Old territory.  
  
"So do you." Soujiro nodded at the other chair. "Aren't you going to join me?"  
  
Reluctantly, Tsukushi grabbed a plate and sat down, still avoiding Soujiro's eyes, still staring at her meal like it was going to jump off the plate and attack her.  
  
Soujiro, on the other hand, found himself digging in with a will. Despite his best attempts, Tsukushi's cooking always had this effect on him, as if some of her vitality was cooked right into each bite. Yet another reason to love her. . .  
  
Soujiro started guiltily, as he realized where his thoughts were heading. He really was a selfish bastard, he knew. Really, what kind of an asshole shows up at heir ex-girlfriend's place after a night of boozing and whoring, expecting to be fed and coddled? Only a jerk like him. Why couldn't she realize? Why hadn't she sent him away? Didn't the girl have any sense of self-preservation?  
  
Obviously not.  
  
Tsukushi gathered up the dishes, and went to wash them. The stress was really getting to her -- the silence, the uncertainty, combined with her exhaustion from a week of hard work. It was almost with an air of detachment, that she noticed her hands trembling as she scrubbed her pots. . . .Her vision blurred as the first tears trickled down her cheeks, and with a crash and a clatter of breaking ceramic, she dropped the plate she'd been holding, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs, as, with whitened knuckles, she gripped the edge of the sink for support.  
  
And what of Soujiro?  
  
Ever since he'd arrived, hell, even before then, his brain had been screaming one thing at him: telling him to turn around and go, before he fucked up again, before he made things any worse -- reminding him that he'd sworn to take another path, that this woman didn't need his interference in her life any more. But his heart; that intangible entity that craves love and wants to be loved in return; that traitorous heart of his, had led him here. That traitorous heart was in collusion with his feet, his arms, his hands even now-- his body rebelling against his mind's decree. It took less than a second for Soujiro to find himself holding Tsukushi, his arms wrapped around her, like they always belonged there, her head fitting perfectly on his shoulder.  
  
Damn it. This was Not in the plan. Soujiro cursed himself, even as his hands reached out to entwine with Tsukushi's. But, even as his body offered solace and comfort in its gentle embrace, Soujiro's voice was sounding out harsh words, whispered, almost seductively, in Tsukushi's ear.  
  
"Tsukushi. Don't cry. Not for me. . . . Do you know where I've been all night? What I've been doing? Do you even know how many women I've fucked this week? Can you smell it on me, mixed with the smoke and the wine? I know you can. Is this what you really want?"  
  
"I don't care." Tsukushi murmured back, her voice a barely audible whisper, "If that sort of behavior makes you happy, then I'll cheer you on. . . But you have to tell me. . What do you want from me? Why are you here? Don't shut me out, Soujiro. Please. . . "  
  
". . . What I if I told you I didn't want anything? Not your love, not your cooking. Not any of this!?"  
  
"I can't not love you. I can't pretend not to care. I can only keep silent, if that's what you wish from me . . . But if you don't want anything I can give you, then why are you here?" Tsukushi was pleading now, unconscious of how, even now, she leaned closer into Soujiro for support; how, even now, he unconsciously held her tighter, their two bodies fitting together like two halves of a whole. And still, neither seemed to realize the disconnect between their words and their actions.  
  
"And If I said, I wanted to fuck you? That I needed you here, now?" Soujiro whispered savagely in Tsukushi's ear, his hot breath burning her cheek like fire, "Would you agree to that too?"  
  
"No!" Tsukushi sobbed, tearing away from Soujiro, at last, and sinking to the floor in dismay. "That I can't do!" Not like this. Not now. "I'm sorry. If that's what you need. I . . . I just can't. . ." she was crying hard now, unable to continue. She couldn't bear to think that that might be, after all, why he was here. She wanted his love, but not like that. Never like that. She never wanted to be one of his toys, not when he'd once promised her so much more.  
  
"Tsu. . ." Soujiro slid down behind her, pulling her back into his arms once more, and cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the world, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. . . .I didn't mean it." Each tear she shed was like an accusation, driving the shame and guilt deeper into his heart. He didn't care about anything else now; he would give anything, anything at all, to make her tears stop, and to see her smile again.  
  
". . . Then what do you want?! Why are you here? Just tell me! Do we have to be strangers now? Because of one stupid mistake? Do you even want to be friends? Please, don't leave me guessing any longer! I can't stand it. . ."  
  
Soujiro buried his head in her hair, his senses overcome by the feel of Tsukushi in his arms, her sweet smell, the sight of her tears, ". . .I want. . ." He took a deep breath, as if he could inhale her very essence and gain strength from it, ". . . I want you back. . ."  
  
It was wrong, it was selfish, but oh god, he wanted her, needed her to complete himself.  
  
"Please. Will you come back to me?"  
  
To be continued. 


	28. you know you wanted it

~~Now ask yourselves this: do I know how to write happiness? (hint-- answer starts with 'N' and ends with 'O'). All I know is dysfunction, and I write what I know. Also, it seems the nearly overwhelming consensus that I write better when I'm blitzed out of my mind on any of the following (alone or in combination): alcohol, sleep dep; fever; an overdose of sudafed; but not when I'm in my well-adjusted, healthy right mind (such as it is). How totally depressing.  
  
WARNING: later parts of this chapter probably merit R rating. The transition to that section is pretty damned obvious. Watch out for kinky behavior, as promised. (some days I can't get my mind out of the gutter.) mm.. toasty. .. anyway, enjoy! ~cm~~~  
  
Life, as we all know, is not really quite as simple as all that. Sure, Soujiro wanted Tsukushi back, despite all his rationalizations to the contrary. And, yes, she loved him and wanted him too. .. But. . .  
  
Things just couldn't be the same. A trust had been breached, a confidence shattered. And, while Tsukushi could forgive, she could never forget. The old ease and companionship was gone. The unspoken trust, the comfort of silence. . . . all gone.  
  
It had been replaced by a kind of clingy need; a craving for physical stability, in a world of emotional trauma. Soujiro couldn't promise never to stray again, not to fall from grace. For now, he knew better. He could only promise to come back to her. . . But that's not much comfort, and he knew it. He could see the disappointment and the continued hurt she tried to hide. Tsukushi gave him all that she could. . . But it wasn't the same.  
  
She couldn't bear his more intimate embraces. He'd tried to kiss her, only to have her freeze in his arms. She shuddered if his hands went roaming too far. . . . There had been a time, not so long ago, when she'd welcomed such contact, enjoyed it and wanted more. That time was gone: vanquished by the lingering memory of a stupid mistake.  
  
For now, each time he touched her, Tsukushi could hear a lingering voice in the back of her brain, reminding her, "He kissed Yuki like this. . . These hands made Yuki cry out in pleasure." Then, Tsukushi would break away, unable to forget. Intellectually, she forgave him, but her heart still could not. It was stupid, she knew. After all, it wasn't like he hadn't made love to dozens of other women, some more recently than Yuki. . . Still, somehow, the thought of him with them didn't hurt so much . . . didn't feel so personal. . . .(Of course, it didn't exactly help in the least bit, that Yuki, in the course of her teary-eyed confession to Tsukushi, had spilled every single little sordid detail of her tryst. Now, Tsukushi couldn't banish the images, much as she wanted to. Instead, they lingered, and when Soujiro kissed her, Tsukushi imagined him kissing Yuki in her place.  
  
Soujiro knew something was amiss, in the hurt way Tsukushi held herself-- As though something were broken inside that she was too proud to admit. And he knew it was his fault, but not how to repair the damage; not when she wouldn't talk to him about it. It only made him hate himself more, only made him need the comfort she gave him more. In a vicious self-reinforcing cycle; they were caught between love and despair; wanting and needing; trapped by memory. They wanted things to be as they once were-- but knew that they could never go back to that innocence again.  
  
So that was all wrong. Love couldn't overcome that. Not yet. . . Only time might have that power.  
  
At least they could still cuddle. That was fine. He'd never cuddled Yuki, never held her tightly, never whispered endearments into her hair, or clung to her as if it would kill him to let her go.  
  
Their friends noticed, of course, both the reunion and the strange sort of discomfort between the couple. But what could they do about it? They all by now had enough other shit to deal with, without having to dwell on Tsukushi's and Soujiro's resolving issues.  
  
Akira summed up the heart of the matter in question, with one well meaning, if utterly misplaced joke.  
  
"Geez, Makino. I can't believe Tsukasa lost his virginity before you!"  
  
Tsukushi had merely slapped him and turned away, even as Sakurako had cut in with her own commentary, "Who would've thought, Tsukasa had it in him to go and do something like that?"  
  
"I suspected." Akira had laughed, oddly triumphant, as if proud of his repressed friend finally 'becoming a man', as it were. It had been The item of gossip among the F3 and their circle for days, though carefully hidden from the rest of their peers, who, it was felt, just wouldn't understand.  
  
Tsukasa, visiting his friends one afternoon, had been vehemently defensive; his guard up, ready to smite the first person to laugh, the first person to make some cutting comment. Oddly, no one had. Or, perhaps it wasn't odd-- not with the threat of violence hanging over their heads, not only from Tsukasa, but from Makino jumping to his defense as well. Or perhaps it was only the knowledge of their on involvement, slight as it may have been, in this chain of events, that kept everyone subdued, or even outwardly supportive, about the entire mess.  
  
There were, of course, extenuating circumstances. . .  
  
-----  
  
A few days ago, a week, maybe? Tsukasa had been working like a madman, on one of the corporation's riskier investments; processing budget requests, reading and rereading quarterly reports, urgent pleas for upper management intervention, etc, etc, etc. It was budget cutting time and his mother had assigned him this task as a test. Save this side project. Or else. He'd been pulling all-nighters all week, wading through the portfolios, tracing the pathetic history of this start-up. . . It was a sordid tale of budgets spiraling out of control, falling morale, decreasing productivity. What had once looked to be a promising, high profit venture, now seemed a disaster in the making. Tsukasa had to make recommendations, cut budgets, find new approaches, and orchestrate creative managing decisions. What a mess!  
  
Still, he attacked the task with vigor, stopping only to eat or caffeinate. Somehow, it seemed easier to attend the eternal meetings, or muck through ream after ream of reports, when he knew that with the touch of a few buttons he could call upon almost any of his friends and vent.  
  
For all his months in New York, he hadn't been free to express his frustrations, had pretended that he had none, had pretended that his soul was ice. It had been a failed attempt, and had made his life miserable. Now, he found that in lieu of sleep, he could call up Akira and listen to his easy gossip for ten or fifteen minutes, letting the mindless chatter clear his head. He could even call Makino, and vent his frustration in a pointless shouting match. Their arguments now had a distinct tendency to leave the both of them gasping and helpless with laughter after a few minutes, when they realized how silly they both sounded.  
  
Yet, Tsukasa still lacked something. It might be said that he was on his way to recovery, slowly pulling out of his funk. . . but he was not healed of his emotional wounds yet. He still lacked the brash ability he'd once had, that simple-minded knowledge that he was right and thus act accordingly, without second thoughts. In some ways this was good, in others, this lack of self-esteem could not help but prove detrimental. So too, he was less lonely than before, and was making amends with his friends, but it wasn't the same. Not like having someone to love. Not like being loved. Which brought to a mind a problem yet to be resolved. . . .  
  
"When are you going to talk to Shigeru?" Tsukushi had asked during one late- night phone call from Doumyouji.  
  
"Soon. When I'm done with this shit."  
  
"She's upset, you know. I told her you wanted to talk. . . She's been waiting."  
  
Truthfully, Shigeru had been more upset over the fact that Tsukasa somehow had time to speak to both Akira and Tsukushi, but not to her. Sure, she knew that the issues she and Tsukasa had to work out would take far longer than fifteen minutes on the phone to resolve, but still. A token effort might be nice.  
  
"Not right now." Tsukasa had more than one reason for avoiding Shigeru. The Doumyouji security agents had finally reported that Shigeru and Amon had been spotted together on a regular basis. Actually, it had taken this long, since, for the first week, the junior agent newly assigned to surveillance had mistaken Amon for Tsukasa. And then, it had taken another week for his superior officer to review his reports, including the most recent sightings, and realize that this was an impossibility, as Tsukasa, busy as he was, hadn't left the house in days.  
  
Unfortunately, Kaede was in New York, so Tsukasa had, to all appearances outwardly calm, listened to the news and told the security detail that he'd deal with the situation personally, after he was done cleaning up this one business fiasco. After all, if his own security took Amon for him, then surely others would too, and the Doumyouji-Okawahara reputations were probably safe for now.  
  
Internally, however, he had seethed. Not with jealousy, as one might think, or anger that his fiancée seemed to be cheating on him already, but more with fury that he'd even considered taking Amon seriously. The man had seemed eerily sincere, after all, when he'd claimed to want Tsukasa. And that, Tsukasa had the strength to admit to himself, was exciting -- in the heart pounding, adrenaline-pumping kind of way. It was flattering, if unwanted attention. . . And lately, after his several intense encounters with the man, Tsukasa was beginning to wonder if it was really unwanted anymore.  
  
There was just something about their clash of wills, the pursuit of dominance, that struck a chord within him, perhaps reminding him of the way he and Tsukushi had always used to fight -- the one (him) trying to dominate the other (her) and failing. The conflict, then, had been as intriguing, as exciting as anything else in their relationship. And somehow, this Thing, whatever it was, with Amon, felt similar, somehow.  
  
So he took it personally that Amon was sliming upon his fiancée. It was like a violation of some unspoken pact. This thing between them, it was Theirs. To drag Shigeru into it, was to change the dynamic, as if the forbidden hungers Amon spoke of satiating hadn't been the real object after all. Instead, maybe, the whole thing was a sham; some devious plot of Kunisawa's to destroy the Doumyoujis. To ruin their good name and that of the Okawhara family. The only thing Tsukasa could not fathom was the why of it all. Sure, he knew that Amon had seen Shigeru the night of the engagement party. Kissed her, even, if he was to believed. And Amon'd been moved to call Shigeru when he'd caught Soujiro with Yuki-- but still. . .It didn't explain the daily meetings after school. Unless Amon was just playing some twisted game for his own amusement.  
  
Tsukasa didn't know, and he was furious with himself for caring about what the man did in the first place. But care he did, more than he would admit to even himself.  
  
------  
  
Another day, Another meeting. Shigeru was bored. Every day it was the same. Go to school; do homework for an hour or so; meet Amon at the coffeeshop, hang out for a few hours; go home. And for all Tsukushi's protestations to the contrary, Doumyouji didn't seem to notice, much less care, about her activities. So, she was bored. It wasn't in her nature to sit around passively waiting for things to happen. She had much rather go out and do something, herself.  
  
Not that she minded Amon's company. On the contrary, he was a great companion. Knowledgeable, witty, mature, but projecting, nevertheless, that excitingly ruthless air of cruelty and the possibility of brutality. She knew her own breath caught in admiration as she watched him join her at the table, his sleekly muscled body always tensed like some jungle predator, his eyes cool and calculating, as he sat down across from her. Not for the first time, she wished he hadn't turned her down, that instead of holding out this distant hope for Tsukasa, she could have just up and wallowed in a self-indulgent fling with this man, here. At least then, this would be over and done with, and she wouldn't have to see him every day, to think of him every day. . . So that, as the days and weeks went by, she sometimes thought of him more than she did Tsukasa.  
  
Today, however, today was different. Today she had an idea. Admittedly, it was a very bad idea, but at the very least, it would be so much more Exciting then another afternoon of coffee and idle chatter.  
  
"Hey, Amon." She grinned brightly at the scowling man across from her, "How much time you got today?"  
  
'"The usual." He shrugged moodily. Yesterday he'd worked a double shift, and the night had been exceptionally busy. So he was exhausted today, and the prospect of keeping up with Shigeru's relentless enthusiasm and energy had already put him in a bad mood. (A bad mood not relieved any by the knowledge that, as of yet, his clever plan to nab Doumyouji seemed to be an utter failure).  
  
"Oh good!" Shigeru enthused, seemingly oblivious to his foul mood. "Want to watch a movie?"  
  
"There's nothing good in the theaters." Amon protested, "Unless you like inane drivel pandering to the worst kind of idiots and fools."  
  
"Not in the theater, silly! On video!" Smiling broadly, Shigeru reached into her bag and held up a selection of garishly colored DVDs.  
  
Amon, worldly, jaded, cynical Amon, felt his jaw drop in stunned surprise as he beheld exactly What videos Shigeru had in mind. . . . "Tentacle rape hentai?" he managed at last, in a strangled voice.  
  
"Yeah!" Shigeru beamed, looking like she was about to start bouncing off the walls, "Have you ever seen it?"  
  
"No." Amon returned flatly. Then, his expression changed to a knowing leer. "Who needs anime porn when you've got the real thing?"  
  
"No, No, No!" Shigeru explained, "You're missing the point entirely! This stuff is freaking hilarious! It's like comedy, only better!"  
  
Amon just stared as if she were insane.  
  
"On come on! You have to try it! See, what you do is turn the volume off, and make your own dialogue to go with it! Like Kareoke. Only not."  
  
"So what? You moan and scream to the sex scenes?" Amon asked, lifting one eyebrow quizzically, and imagining Shigeru attempting to recreate such perversions in reality. That would be moderately kinky. . ."Are you trying to seduce me again? Because if you are, I have to say, animated rape porn really isn't the right way to about it."  
  
"Oh No! I wouldn't dream of doing that!" Shigeru protested, 'Sakurako and I used to do this all the time. . . Even Akira thinks it's funny. . . Oh! Just let me demonstrate. Ok! Here's the monster." She wiggled one hand, "And here's the heroine." She proceeded to demonstrate in puppet-play, the basic idea, using a remarkable array of funny voices and even sillier dialogue. Even Amon had to admit, she was pretty good. The dissociation between the dialogue and the perception of the scene was absolutely hilarious. He hadn't thought that you could make such a scene seem to be anything other than it was intended to be. But Shigeru managed somehow.  
  
"Fine." Amon grunted at the completion of Shigeru's demonstration. "Let's go."  
  
Shigeru beamed happily as the two left the café. Almost, she felt as though she had a boyfriend, as they walked down the street, side by side. Sure, they weren't actually touching, and Amon's expression was as stony cold as his eyes. She stifled a small sigh, seeing not even the slightest hint of affection in his face. He tolerated her company for the sake of their agreement, but she couldn't win him over any more than she could win Tsukasa's heart.  
  
For his part, Amon would most likely have agreed with Shigeru's assessment. He was used to her excesses of enthusiasm by now, her bright eye and perky smile, but it did nothing for him. No more than any other attractive woman, and cynic that he was, he had observed long ago that there was never a short supply of those around. However, he had to admit, that in the weeks he'd been forcing himself to tarry in her presence, he had, quite unexpectedly, developed a sort of sympathy for the girl. He had thought his heart too hardened to care for any one anymore, thought that he'd isolated himself enough to prevent any empathy from seeping through his defenses (except of course, for rare exceptions like Tsukasa or Tsukushi). Apparently, he had been wrong. He saw the flashes of sadness in Shigeru's face, and even, on occasion, felt badly, himself, that he could do nothing for her. Well, that wasn't quite true, he could sleep with her, as she desired, play with her as she asked. It would be so easy on one level, to give in. But on another level, he found he just couldn't do it. Not the way she wanted. And it wasn't just because she was a virgin, and he didn't do virgins. It was a deeper issue. One that he'd never known would bother him. He was afraid that Shigeru was starting to see him as more than just a Tsukasa stand-in.  
  
In almost any other situation, this would not have bothered him. But for some reason, here and now, he dreaded the idea that Shigeru could ever come to fall for him as himself. If he were to be honest with himself, he would realize that he felt this way because of his feelings for Tsukasa. Feelings which hadn't diminished any, despite the lack of encouragement he'd so far received. He didn't want Shigeru falling for him, because that would damage her relationship, such as it was, with Tsukasa, and That, in turn would have repercussions for His relationship, Such as It was (or wasn't) with that difficult boy.  
  
Wow, life was complicated. Really, it was so much simpler to hold oneself aloof from it all, and simply observe behind an icy mask of disdain, to play with innocent fools who fell in his web. But he'd just had to get involved. And still, even now, he had his weaker moments, moments when he found himself tempted by Shigeru's less than subtle suggestions and darting glances.  
  
Truly, Amon shook his head, as he and Shigeru sneaked into her apartment to her private movie screening chamber, he must've been smoking crack that day he'd met Shigeru. He should've run like hell, instead of letting her complicate his life like this.  
  
But anyway, it was far too late now to turn back time.  
  
Amon settle back into the plush recesses of a wide couch as Shigeru popped the DVD in the payer and started flipping through a pile of remotes looking for the one for the overhead projector.  
  
"You ready?" She inquired, sprawling out, in a most unladylike manner, next to him.  
  
"I'm not doing the funny voices." Amon denied.  
  
". . . But that's the best part!"  
  
"Then I'll watch you." Was Amon's only rejoinder, ass he wondered for the hundredth time just what the fuck he was doing here, now, in this girl's home, of all places, watching shitty porn, and pretending that everything was normal.  
  
And watch he did, as Shigeru bounced and giggled, he voice transforming with remarkable skill, her imagination dreaming up the most bizarre repartee to explain the images on the screen before them. But Amon wasn't watching the movie. He was watching Shigeru. The way her eyes glittered brightly in the reflected light from the movie, the way her perfect lips seemed to bubble over with words and laughter. The way her cheeks flushed and pulled her lips up into a lively grin. She really was enjoying this foolishness.  
  
And, in watching her, Amon was seized by an impulse. She thought to tempt him like this did she? She thought he could be swayed by such odd entertainments, did she? Amon shook his head, he was the puller of strings, he the manipulator, the seducer, the user. She couldn't do anything for him. But he could do so much To her. . . Even so, it felt like reward as much as punishment for Shigeru's assumptions when Amon reached out strong arms and hauled her bodily onto his lap.  
  
Shigeru started and abruptly ceased her patter, as she tried to twist around to ask Amon what he was doing.  
  
"Keep going." Amon murmured silkily behind her ear, "Remember, I'm the monster here." She should never have forgotten that basic fact.  
  
Shakily, Shigeru resumed her imagined dialogue. Amon listened intently, even as his arms encircled Shigeru; one hand sliding teasingly, tantalizingly along her smooth stomach, the other caressing her lithe athlete's legs. With eyes trained on the phantasmagoric images on the screen before him, Amon bent down to nibble Shigeru's neck and her earlobe. Lower down, his fingers slowly stroked their way up the inside of Shigeru's thigh, causing her muscles to tremble and jump in anticipation.  
  
On screen, some alien monster reached out, wrapping slimy appendages around the grotesquely exaggerated breasts of its victim. On the couch, Amon's upper hand groped Shigeru roughly through her bra. Shigeru gasped, arcing back against the man who tormented her.  
  
"Keep talking." He reminded, amused at the way Shigeru's story-line -- something apparently involving an alien plastic surgeon and his unfortunate malpractice victims-- became more fragmented and incoherent. Soon, she gave up entirely, as Amon continued his interpretation of the on-screen action, his clever fingers skimming up beneath Shigeru's shirt, flirting with the hem of her panties, before insinuating themselves into the hidden mysteries beneath.  
  
Ruthlessly, Amon teased the trembling girl, slowly bringing her near climax with each horrendous scene they witnessed, but never quite letting her fall over that edge.  
  
"I hope you locked the door." Amon casually remarked at one point, retaining his self-control almost completely. Sure, the feel of the woman on top of him, and the knowledge of just what he was doing to her, was making him incredibly horny, but he refused to let himself indulge at this moment. Not with this chit of a girl. This little game was all about her, all for her. He would have none of it.  
  
"No." Shigeru gasped, partly in sudden dawning realization of just what it would look like to be found in this particular position - legs wide, straddling the lab of a man who had one had up her blouse and one up her skirt. The other reason for her gasp was because of the amazing sensations coursing through her entire body because of those wandering hands. Tsukasa would never do something like this.  
  
"Oh well." Amon shrugged, "Better hope your servants think this is just the movie, then. He had figured Shigeru for a screamer, and oh man, was he right. He winced and would have clapped his hands to his ears, had not they been busy elsewhere.  
  
Shigeru sagged limply back against him, trying to pull her head back together after the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had. Masturbation was nothing like this! She didn't really understand Why Amon had chosen to pleasure her now, but she wasn't about to complain. She did, however let out a small whimper, as Amon removed sticky fingers and pushed her off his lap. She pulled herself up, and looked at him questioningly, noting the strangely stormy expression on his face, as if he were angry with her.  
  
"What's wrong?" She asked nervously. After all, what do you say in a situation like this? Were his actions a prelude to actual sex? Had the hentai really had that effect on him after all?  
  
In reply, Amon seemed to uncoil himself with the grace of a snake, and pinned her to the couch, his face mere inches from hers, "What were you thinking then?" his voice was fierce, demanding a response.  
  
"When?" Shigeru was confused. Maybe she just couldn't think straight in the aftermath of this. . whatever it had been.  
  
"When?" Amon explained impatiently, still pinning Shigeru down, "When do you think? When I do this," he leaned closer and bestowed a brief but fiery kiss, "Or this." He ran a hand casually up her thigh, "It still his face you see?" His tone forbade prevarication. But nor did it give any hint which answer he wanted.  
  
There was of course, no doubt who "He" was. Tsukasa or Amon; who was it Shigeru saw? Who was it, she imagined now, who pressed her down, his obvious arousal palpable through his jeans. Whose lips did she imagine she felt, when her eyes were closed, whose hands had just made her world explode with pleasure?  
  
". . .No." Shigeru whispered, hardly daring to meet Amon's eyes.  
  
"That's what I as afraid of." Amon pushed himself up, and stood, staring down at the disheveled girl. His voice held more than a hint of disappointment. "This can't go on. Our deal is off."  
  
"Wait!" Shigeru called out, as he turned away, "Ill try harder."  
  
"It won't work." Amon shook his head. "But thanks for a fun afternoon!" he turned back and grinned at her shocked expression, "You should try that with Tsukasa sometime. Damn, who'd've thought it? I never knew that particular form of entertainment could be quite so. . . tasty." He waved at the still running movie on the far wall.  
  
"I knew." Shigeru mustered a cheeky grin, despite the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. ". . . You can't blame me for trying."  
  
"Heh." Amon chuckled at her spirit, and gave her one final bit of parting advice, "Keep trying. Not everyone is as much of an asshole as I am. You just have to get better taste in men." He laughed self-deprecatingly, "Preferably one who wouldn't rather be screwing your fiance. . . See ya!" and he was gone.  
  
Shigeru shook her head in disbelief. So much for that plan. Now she was back to square one. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry about that. Maybe Tsukushi would know what to do, if she didn't drop dead of shock at Shigeru's tale first. With one final sigh, Shigeru shut off the projector and dialed Tsukushi's number. She had a great deal of explaining to do, she knew, but Tsukushi would listen. She always did.  
  
-----  
  
"Congratulations, sir."  
  
Tsukasa blinked at the young security agent in his doorway. He'd just gotten back from his first walk outside in days-- it was too nice a day to be shut up indoors all afternoon, even if he did have an absolute mountain of work to get through by tomorrow. So now, he had no idea what the young man was grinning about so. . . knowingly. Did the company just make some great deal? Did his mother succeed with one of her vicious hostile takeovers? Or maybe, was he simply being congratulated for getting enough done that he could actually spare the time to be out of the office for a few hours? Doumyouji summed up all these questions with the most useful query of all time,  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Come on, sir." The man remarked slyly, "My sister works as a maid for Okawahara family. . . . What a way to make up with Miss Okawahara! . . .But you might want to invest in soundproof walls in future. Sir."  
  
Tsukasa's face darkened as he took in the man's words. Who the hell was doing the hiring around here anyway? Such insolence was not to be allowed! Not to mention, the dangers of employing such gossips. And he wasn't even going to get into a discussion of the fact that he'd spent the afternoon with Akira and Rui, nowhere near Shigeru's place. He was willing to bet, however, that he knew who it really was that had been there.  
  
The young guard winced, seeing the fury in Tsukasa's face. He was too young to have experienced the old violently sociopathic Tsukasa, or else he would never have opened his mouth, and would now be trembling for his life before his employer's wrath. (Actually, he was trembling now, having finally gotten enough sense to realize his mistake.)  
  
"Get out." Tsukasa spoke coldly. "And Never come back. You're fired."  
  
As the poor frightened idiot scuttled away, Tsukasa was already in motion, flinging on his discarded jacket, and stalking for the door. This time, Amon had gone too far. He couldn't just mess with Shigeru and get away with it, not after he'd led Tsukasa to believe something entirely different was at stake.  
  
Had Doumyouji thought to look in a mirror, he would have been shocked to realize that the look he wore was that of a jilted lover, setting out to confront their faithless ex. He wasn't even aware of the jealousy that poured through his veins. All he knew was that he felt as though he'd been lied to, that he'd been betrayed. He wanted to punish Amon, make him beg for mercy. Even now, he could just imagine the other man's expression-- smug, self-satisfied, and mockingly ironic. He would smash that face, make it bleed and bruise until it no longer resembled his own, until it no longer called out to him with a hunger he did not want to name.  
  
It took only a short while for Tsukasa to arrive at Amon's apartment. Impatiently, he rang the doorbell, but no one answered. Growling irritably, Tsukasa settled into the shadows of the doorway to wait for Amon's return.  
  
Though the wait was not short, Tsukasa's ire didn't fade. All thoughts of his work and responsibilities at home faded before his need for confrontation. Unfortunately, he had to wait until Amon was done with work that evening, before the desired conflict could take place.  
  
----  
  
Amon nonchalantly strode up the street towards his home. It had been an early night for him, and he was eager to get home to sleep. He'd hardly thought of Shigeru since leaving her apartment -- perhaps it was callous of him to toy with her so, then leave without a second thought, but she'd wanted it in the first place, and he knew she would be just fine, in the end. She just needed to get over her silly little infatuation and get on with her life. (Advice Amon could just as easily applied to his own situation, had he so chosen.) He was completely unprepared, then, for the arm that shot out of the shadows as he reached his door. The arm was followed by a muscular shoulder, and the both of them combined to throw him bodily against the wall and hold him there while the rest of Tsukasa emerged from the darkness, glowering fiercely.  
  
Tsukasa didn't waste time on civilities, but went straight to the attack, punching Amon viciously in the stomach before the older man could catch his breath.  
  
"What the fuck?" Amon wrenched himself from Tsukasa's grip and staggered back.  
  
"You. Bastard." Tsukasa charged again, his anger and frustration causing him to attack without grace, style or technique-- just pure, raw, ferocity.  
  
Even Amon was astounded by the sudden onslaught and fell back defensively, parrying and blocking, wrestling, and heaving, trying to hold Tsukasa off as best he could.  
  
It would have been apparent to witnesses, had there been any, that Amon was losing this fight, and losing it rather badly at that.  
  
Amon slipped and found himself pinned, once more, against the wall, the cold masonry chilling his back.  
  
"What the hell is your problem?" He glared, uncowed, into Tsukasa's snarling face.  
  
"You know." Tsukasa panted, taking a brief break from his violence.  
  
". . . Shigeru?" Amon hazarded a guess.  
  
"You asshole. You lied. . ." Tsukasa trailed off, suddenly unable to complete the thought. Amon took advantage of the boy's hesitation to push back, to find a chink in Tsukasa's defense, and seek superiority in the fight for himself.  
  
"About what?" Amon inquired, though he suspected he might know the answer, he wanted to hear it from Tsukasa's lips.  
  
By now, both of them were sweating, as they circled each other warily in the darkened street. Cautious eyes looked for weakness, tense shoulders bunched and spasmed, as Tsukasa's fist itched to strike.  
  
"You said. . ." An opening. Tsukasa took it in a flurry of fists and shoves. For now, he was in control, Amon helpless in his steely grip, ". . . That you could give me what I needed. . . "For an instant, he sounded, lost, young, afraid, "But," the anger flared back up, "You don't even know what that is do you? You don't care after all, do you? It's all some twisted game in your head. Taunting me, playing with Shigeru. What the hell are you trying to prove?"  
  
Amon's eyes widened. He hadn't quite expected Tsukasa to react like this. But what the hell, it was as desirable an opportunity as any. "It got your attention, didn't it?" Even though he was losing the physical fight badly, and that hurt his pride, he didn't intend to lose the battle of words, ". . .I meant every word. I said." Piercing eyes met flashing ones once more, mesmerized by the similarities within each. Tsukasa felt his emotional defenses failing, falling beneath the hunger in the other man's gaze.  
  
"Prove it. . . " And he was lost. . . Tsukasa felt his body acting almost of its own volition. The hands that had held Amon with punishing strength, now slacked their grip as he moved closer, their bodies almost touching. Long lashes brushed across smooth cheeks as Tsukasa's eyes slid shut. He leaned in hesitantly, shyly, as if afraid of what he was about to do.  
  
The kiss that ensued was a shock to Amon, though really, it probably shouldn't have been. Not the fact of the kiss, itself, that he'd been expecting; but more the actual technique of it. When he'd kissed Tsukasa, before, he'd been almost brutal, teasing, mocking, demanding a response from the younger man. But this time, Tsukasa initiated it. And this time, Tsukasa led the contact, the gentle pressure of his lips in stark contrast with the fiery heat of his anger. His kiss was tender, and sweet; not at all the heated passionate entity that one might expect from a brash-seeming man like him. It seemed to beg for answers, it seemed to plead; it spoke of a lonely heart, a need for love, for understanding; it asked, if Amon understood, if he was capable of any of these things? Capable of anything more than mocking passion and cynical words?  
  
Amon felt himself responding, as if acquiescing to Tsukasa's demands. For now, he let Tsukasa lead, let the younger man find satisfaction in this fleeting contact. Then, and only then, Amon reversed the attack, fighting for dominance in the kiss; changing it's nature from something sweetly innocent to something more passionate, the hunger and pure physicality he'd promised Tsukasa evident in every dart of his tongue. And even as the two men remained locked together in a most intimate exchange of emotion, Amon fought for dominance in the physical realm as well, pushing Tsukasa away, reversing their positions; trapping Tsukasa between his body and the wall. The younger man seemed oblivious to this reversal, lost as he was in a growing daze of lust and confusion, stoked all the further by the novelty of this situation, combined with the impossible way Amon seemed to know exactly what would make Tsukasa react the most, proving they were more alike than even Amon had previously supposed.  
  
It had to end sometime. Tsukasa jerked back into awareness of his surrounding with a start, and a jolt of embarrassed dismay. He'd just kissed a man he thought he hated. Not for the first time, nor even the second. He'd kissed him of his own volition. And he'd liked it. He'd enjoyed the fight, the unsullied brutality of their flying fists and hurled curses, the way it had made him feel alive, and energized. But he'd enjoyed the kiss more. It was wrong, it was perverse, it was like nothing he'd ever shared with Tsukushi. . . But. . .  
  
"So What?" Tsukasa roughly shoved Amon away, uncomfortably aware of his rampant arousal, and that of the man pressed against him, "Do you get some fucked up kick out of seducing monkey-face and me in the same day?" He pushed away and staggered a few steps down the street, "I can't believe I actually wanted to. . . to. . . This is. . . disgusting." How was he supposed to live with himself after something like this? He'd be the laughingstock of Tokyo.  
  
"I didn't fuck her." Amon's quiet voice carried down the street. "She knows -- I only want you. I'm serious. . . .I promise. This is not a game. Come on upstairs and we can talk."  
  
"You're kidding." Tsukasa's disbelief was palpable. Like he would trust Amon right now.  
  
"Believe what you want." Amon sighed, as if in defeat. He was tired, and he ached from the beating Tsukasa had just given him. And, to boot, his sexual frustration was at an all time high. He simply didn't have the patience to deal with Tsukasa's mood swings right now, "But you are coming upstairs with me. Now." A few quick strides brought him up behind Tsukasa, a few deft moves and he had Tsukasa in a headlock, helpless, with one arm twisted behind his back. Yeah. What a great way to start off a relationship. Amon grinned as he marched a cursing, struggling Tsukasa up the stairs to his apartment and kicked open the door.  
  
"What the hell?" Tsukasa protested as Amon released him and pushed him against the bedroom wall.  
  
"I want this, and you do too." Amon murmured in Tsukasa's ear, "Stop trying to fight it. There's no shame in sex. . . . And if it bothers you -- you can always pretend that this is all a dream, you and yourself, no one else. No one else knows you like me, no one else can fulfill you like I can. We 're more alike than we can know. So look at my face, and pretend it's a mirror. I'm you , and you are me. One body. One man. All alone with himself.  
  
His lips were only centimeters from Tsukasa's. His words, seductively murmured, tickled Tsukasa's cheek. Tsukasa was caught, staring wide eyed, at cheekbones that mirrored his own, eyes that reflected his own uncertainty back at him; eyes that shone with a unappeased hunger, but deeper down, glimmered with something more, an echo of the own need Tsukasa felt-- the need to be understood, and wanted, to be accepted and cared for.  
  
And Tsukasa was knew he was lost. Lost before Amon's lips even touched his, before their bodies met in one merging surge.  
  
Suddenly, it was no longer about dominance. No longer about who was superior to the other, no longer about who was in control. There was no victor, and no one was defeated. The battle between them, the battle that had begun so long ago, as they each fought for Tsukushi's heart, was over, at least for now. Now, rough hands explored familiarly unfamiliar bodies, as hot breath whispered across sweaty skin, and clothes fell away in rumpled confusion.  
  
Somehow, they made it to the bed; two men who almost seemed brothers; their conflict dissolving into a mutuality of pleasure. Tsukasa gasped as Amon's hands and mouth traveled down. Dark eyes met in the briefest of glances before Amon bent his head and sent Tsukasa spiraling away on waves of sensation.  
  
Though Tsukasa was the innocent, and Amon the seeming corrupter, it didn't feel that way to the two participants. Somehow in the sweat-slick motion of body on body, in the mirrored image of one's own face -- or almost one's own face-- gasping in the sweetest of pleasures, the two men lost track of whose body was whose. Who was doing the pleasuring and who receiving that gift. It was as if they had one body, one mind, split briefly in two for this one encounter, the most delicious of sins. Neither had ever felt anything like it, in the intensity of their coupling, the sheer hedonistic self-indulgence of fucking yourself. It was everything Amon had hoped, and more. It was nothing Tsukasa had ever expected or demanded, and then some. But when it was over, and the two men sprawled sweatily and limply across Amon's rumpled bed, he couldn't say he regretted it.  
  
Truly, Tsukasa mused, basking in the afterglow of being well and truly had. --Or was it him who had been doing the taking?-- he must have lost his mind to have gone and done this thing. . . But he couldn't make himself regret it. Couldn't even make himself feel the disgust that had almost overwhelmed him previously at the very idea of such behavior. He should have been horrified that he'd just. . .. with a Guy. .. . And not just Any guy, but Kunisawa Amon. But he wasn't, not anymore. He wasn't even angry. Not with himself, not with Amon, not with anyone. . . And maybe it was all just a temporary effect of the massive rush of endorphins in his system, but Tsukasa found himself relaxing, as he lay naked in this stranger's bed, as if he had not a care in the world; as if he finally understood himself, and was at peace with that knowledge.  
  
Perhaps Amon was right, perhaps passion was all that was necessary to get by. But somehow, Tsukasa got the inkling that this encounter had been about a lot more than mere lust. Somehow, that thought was even more terrifying than the last.  
  
"This. . .this was wrong."  
  
"You liked it."  
  
"We can't do it again."  
  
"We will do it again."  
  
"Not if I can help it,"  
  
"We'll see about that."  
  
Still, Tsukasa couldn't help the almost feral grin that sneaked up on his lips, as he pulled his clothes back on, and prepared to leave. They would indeed see about that.  
  
. . .Oh yes, it would always be a contest between them. Who was stronger, wiser, more in control. But all that vanished when their bodies merged, and they realized, it didn't matter who was who. Here, in an intimate place no one else could follow, they could still learn from each other, help the other, and in doing so, find solace from the lonely world that had scarred them both for so long.  
  
But all that was yet to come. In the meantime, life would go one. Tsukasa; weary, bruised, and just a bit sore, staggered home to meditate on the strange and refreshing turns life took, while, back in his apartment, Amon hummed predatorily to himself, as he showered off the sweat and stink from their activities. In this case, oh yes, the chase had been worth it. Tsukasa returned to his work feeling more energized than he ever had, while Amon drifted off to a deep and satisfied sleep, feeling at this moment, more complete than he ever had before. It might not be love -- in fact, probably wasn't, unless you count narcissism as love, but still, something had occurred here, this night, that neither was likely to ever forget.  
  
To be continued  
  
~~~What? It just seemed like something Shigeru might do. And you can't go wrong with boy on boy axxion. You just can't~~~. 


	29. they had to find out sometime

~~~Goal for october: finish this fic. To this end, I will be punting my other stories until this one is done. whee.~~~  
  
Sometimes you want to believe that events Mean something. That your actions convey something greater than the obvious. You want to believe in some greater metaphysical truth. You want to be able to describe what happened, and say, clear as a bell, "This was truth made physical. This was love's earthly manifestation. This was a baring of my innermost Soul."  
  
But sometimes, an act is just an act. Sometimes, you really are all that you appear to be. Sometimes, most of the time, in fact, sex is just sex, and nothing more.  
  
For so much of his life, Tsukasa had wanted to believe that sex was so much more. To make love-- even the euphemism implied that love was really what it was all about. Now. . .. Now he knew better, intellectually, at least. But emotionally, oh that was a different matter entirely. Emotionally, Tsukasa was still in shock.  
  
It had been only last night -- only twelve hours-- since Tsukasa had stumbled deliriously home, still reeling from the afterglow of his encounter with Amon. Fueled by the endorphins rampaging through his system, he'd raced through the remainder of the night's paperwork, and collapsed, exhausted, into his bed around four AM, only to wake again a mere four hours later, feeling energized and relaxed.  
  
That mood, however, had soon faded, leaving him drained and confused. Why was he so happy? Why did he feel so good? That had been nothing like he'd ever wanted his first time to be, nothing like he'd ever imagined sex Would be like -- and how could it be? He'd always dreamt of making love to a woman, and one very specific woman at that. So what had this whole escapade meant? Did it mean he was falling in love with Amon? It couldn't! Tsukasa wouldn't --couldn't-- accept that. He was attracted to him, maybe -- he could barely bring him self to admit that. He was affected by the older man -- yes, certainly! But love, oh god no! He'd been caught off guard, that was all. Swept away by a burning impulse. And, oh, it had been good. Amazingly so, in ways he couldn't even begin to describe-- who would have thought that two bodies, heaving and thrusting and sweating could produce such mind melting sensations? Who would have known that it could have felt so familiar, so necessary, to see your own face (or a close approximation thereof) gazing back at you, flushed with passion and pleasure? Not Doumyouji Tsukasa, that was for sure.  
  
He knew now. But still, he was confused. He wanted more than the overpowering rush of orgasm alone. He wanted love. He wanted tenderness. Not to always be struggling for dominance. Which was not to say that he wouldn't return to spar with Amon another day, but. . . .  
  
So many 'buts', so many 'on the other hands' and 'if onlys'. And so Tsukasa was ton. Wanting still to believe that love was the overriding factor, the most important thing, but being slapped in the face by the cold hard realities of his own actions.  
  
And so, he went to seek advice.  
  
Unfortunately, Akira was not the first person he encountered on his expedition to Eitoku.  
  
"Hey Tsukasa. . ." Soujiro, once more forcing himself into the habit of attending school regularly (to see Tsukushi if nothing else), did a double take, "Whoa! Dude! I guess you and Shigeru made up, huh?"  
  
"What the hell?" Tsukasa narrowed his eyes suspiciously. What did Soujiro see?  
  
"Dude, don't try to deny it. You've totally got That Look."  
  
"What look?" A voice interrupted from behind them. "Oh. That Look." It was Sakurako, speaking her mind as plainly (or meanly, some might say) as ever. "Wow. Who the hell you been fucking around with, Tsukasa?"  
  
"You mean it wasn't Shigeru?"  
  
"No." Sakurako replied as t it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Haven't you seen her today? No way in hell was it her."  
  
Tsukasa glared back and forth between the two. How could they stand there and gossip about him as if her weren't even present.  
  
"Well who was it, then?" Soujiro raised an eyebrow suggestively, asking if Sakurako was responsible for the still palpable aura of afterglow lingering around Tsukasa.  
  
"Don't look at me like that. Shigeru's my friend. It Wasn't me." Sakurako shrugged with a self congratulatory flip of her hair, "Besides, when would I have had a chance? I've been too busy breaking in my boy to have had time to waste my energy on That one."  
  
Soujiro snorted. Right, like she wouldn't have jumped Doumyouji in an instant if she'd thought she had even the shadow of a chance of fucking him.  
  
"I know who it was." Akira wandered over to their little gathering, a confidently knowing grin spreading its way across his handsome features.  
  
"Shut up!" Tsukasa, almost forgotten by Sakurako and Soujiro during their debate, was now steadily getting redder and redder, his fists clenching at his sides, "Don't you dare say a word, you asshole!"  
  
"Eh? Akira! you can't hold out on me!" Soujiro pled, "You're my best friend! You gotta tell me!"  
  
"If you tell him, you'd better tell me too!" Sakurako chimed in, "Or I'll make your life a living hell."  
  
"Akira." Tsukasa growled, giving the grinning redhead his best glare.  
  
"Please?" Akira wheedled, "How long do you think you can hide it?"  
  
"It was a lapse. It will never happen again. No one has to know." Tsukasa could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, getting steadily tenser as the expectant silence lengthened. Damn it! He wasn't some freak on display! How was he to know that he still glowed with post-post-coital vitality, a glow that drew speculation like flies to honey.  
  
Akira snorted derisively, "Yeah right."  
  
"What the bloody hell do you know?!"  
  
"Umm. .. yeah, Akira" Sakurako butted in, "Were you there? Were you the one to screw Tsukasa silly?"  
  
"Me?!" Akira blinked in stunned denial as Soujiro started to crack up in hysterics..  
  
"It was Kunisawa Amon, wasn't it?" a subdued , but strangely calm Shigeru had finally arrived on the scene. Her normally cheerful face bore a defeated expression, as if she had finally realized just how badly life had screwed her over. She wasn't even trying to uphold her energetic façade for once. No, today she drooped like a wilting flower; like someone who has never been loved, and who has finally, after long struggle, lost all hope of ever being loved.  
  
However, in the shocked silence following this pronouncement, no one noticed Shigeru's appearance. Rather all eyes turned to Tsukasa-- to his beet-red face, and his lack of denial.  
  
". . .Is it true?" Soujiro gasped, looking to Akira for confirmation. Akira merely nodded, while Tsukasa and Shigeru stared each other down -- their first meeting in weeks, and over such an event as this. The tension was building rapidly, as a silent communication passed between the affianced pair.  
  
"Wow. OK. I feel sick now." Sakurako declared.  
  
Soujiro finally pulled himself together enough to notice the uncomfortable silence hanging between Shigeru and Tsukasa, and spoke up in a determinedly cheerful voice. "Well! Congrats, dude. Strange, but still! Finally, you're a man!" He thumped Tsukasa on the back heartily, and continued in a conspiratorial stage whisper, ". . . So tell us, were you on the top or on the bottom?"  
  
Well, it can easily be imagined just what sort of chaos that comment might have resulted in, had not the group finally been joined by Tsukushi and Rui, who looked cluelessly on as Tsukasa sputtered, coughed, and attempted to inflict grievous bodily harm on his presumptuous friend.  
  
"What is going on here?" Tsukushi demanded sharply, wading immediately into the fray and separating the two combatants, neither of whom looked in the least bit remorseful.  
  
"Nothing." Tsukasa growled, though a lingering blush belied his words. Tsukushi looked askance at the remainder of the group, willing someone, anyone, to stop attempting to look so blithely innocent and tell her just what the hell was going on.  
  
"Oh fuck, Tsukasa." Sakurako blurted at last, "Just tell us what happened already! You're far too old to keep blushing at every little thing! Come on, inquiring minds want to know-- How the hell did you lose your virginity -- it was your virginity, yes?-- to Kunisawa of all people?"  
  
------  
  
Well, Truly, it could have been worse, Tsukasa reflected some days later. They could have mocked him, they could have despised him. His friends could have turned their backs on him, the way he had on them so many months ago. But they hadn't. They'd been shocked-- some of them-- he could still recall perfectly the way Makino had gaped and stared as if Sakurako's words had somehow transformed him into some incomprehensible alien creature. But, still, the only one who'd turned and walked away, had been Shigeru. her palpable disappointment in him, or for herself, had stung, but hell, they'd never spoken once since the engagement, so what right did she have to criticize his behavior -- she who had so obviously had hopes for Amon, herself. Nevertheless, Tsukasa had to admit to a gnawing sense of guilt where the once feisty blonde was concerned. He should have mended his bridges with her sooner, before this whole thing got so out of hand.  
  
Not that he wasn't willing to make the effort now. But things were different. The dynamic had changed in ways he'd never foreseen -- in ways that he didn't think Anyone Could have foreseen.  
  
For example, today. He knew it had to be done. Had felt the pull for days. Wanted to feel. Needed to know-- Had that night with Amon been a fluke, an aberration in the course of his reality, or was he doomed to fall under Amon's sway again? Truly, there was only one way to find out, and The almighty Doumyouji Tsukasa never backed away from such a challenge,  
  
And so, Tsukasa shrugged, stalking through the streets like a hunter after some elusive urban prey. Today he'd see what Amon had to say, how Amon made him feel. Then, and only then, would he make some attempt to unravel the tangled, knotty issue of his non-relationship with Shigeru.  
  
Stolidly, Tsukasa eyed the building looming ominously in front of him. It was now or never. Thus, with a heavy sigh, he pushed open the door to the Inferno nightclub and made his way towards the backroom bar where he knew Amon would be waiting.  
  
To be continued.  
  
~~~Oof. I'd so much rather be working on walking wounded right now. But I have to finish this misbegotten amoeboid mutant of a fic before it devours my sanity. Sorry this chapter is merely enh, but I think we're in denouement mode now, and I never was any good at endings.~~~ 


	30. stop moping around and do something

Another day, another letdown. Shigeru paced about her cluttered room and brooded. It had been days since everyone had learned about Tsukasa and Amon, but so what? Their close-knit group was keeping the whole scandal under wraps, talking about it in hushed tones, shooting Shigeru sympathetic looks, and watching their tongues around Tsukasa for fear he'd bite their heads off. Or so it seemed. Everyone was too calm, as if they were aware of some brewing storm; some impending natural catastrophe they could do nothing about. Helpless as they were, then, to change events that had happened, or even events that had yet to happen, they ducked their heads down and waited for the storm to pass.  
  
Even Tsukushi hadn't stood up against Tsukasa and berated him. Shigeru would have thought that of all her friends, at least Tsukushi might have done that for her. But No. Tsukushi was too busy coping with her own rocky relationship with Soujiro to fight Shigeru's battles. And hell, Shigeru had to admit, there wasn't much anyone else could have done anyway, not considering this miserable hell hole she'd dug herself into.  
  
Shigeru stopped her restless pacing and stared hard at nothing in particular. It was All her own fault, wasn't it? Everything that had led to this point? Her fault. Her actions, her inactions. Her thoughtless games and words. Her selfishness. She'd tried so hard, but sometimes it seemed, she just couldn't do anything right. The thought brought a sudden spate of tears to her eyes.  
  
Yes, it was time for a good long cry.  
  
Shigeru sank to her knees in her thick carpet and sobbed, letting the tears flow as freely as the bright cheerful laughter that once had been her trademark among her friends.  
  
How had she come to screw up so badly? How had life gone so wrong? Why had the fates chosen to conspire against her, of all people? She couldn't think of a damned thing she'd done to truly deserve a fate like this. Sure, she'd run wild as a kid, played the crazed tomboy-- but that wasn't a sin. Not in the modern world! She'd never meant anyone harm, she rarely lied-- or at least, she rarely told a malicious lie (if you wanted to be precise about it). And even if she did, she always felt badly afterwards. So why this? Why now? She sniffed miserably. Surely everyone was laughing at her now. Okawahara Shigeru; the girl whose fiance hated her so much that he just had to go fuck his doppelgaanger. Yeah. . . and the clone himself had rejected her too! No, No. It was obvious. Life hated her.  
  
She let the tears drip down her cheeks, as she considered just where things had gone so wrong. What, if she could go back and change it -- what would alter this painful path she'd wandered down? There was nothing she could have done about the initial engagement. Hell, that one she'd been dragged to-- kicking and screaming, tied up and barefoot. That was unalterable. Could she have helped falling in love with the wild and untamable Doumyouji? Possibly, but she doubted it. Love and attraction were not predictable -- you couldn't control them. Unfortunately.  
  
So what? She could have tried to distract herself by going after the foolish playboys. But no. So not her type. Later, she'd tried so hard, tried to suppress her love for Doumyouji, tried to forget she 'd ever felt anything for him; tried to aid his happiness by abetting his relationship with Tsukushi. . . .So there. Would it have been possible for her to have saved that fiasco? If he hadn't fought with Tsukushi all those long months ago, if they hadn't broken up . . If it hadn't ended so utterly, horribly, badly, would he have gone to New York, fleeing like a whipped puppy with his tail between his legs? And if he hadn't gone to New York, would his mother have thought of using him to seal her stupid hotel deal, or would he have slipped by under her radar? If he'd still been with Tsukushi, would he have fought harder to escape the arrangement, as last time, instead of shrugging, and going mutely along with the cursed deal? But, no, She couldn't blame Tsukushi for not staying with Tsukasa. These things happen, and it was nobody's fault, but fate. . . (well, ok, there was fault, and plenty of blame to spread, but it couldn't be helped anyway, so it wasn't worth dwelling on. . .)  
  
Maybe if she'd tried harder to speak to him after this engagement, would that have worked? Shigeru shook her head miserably, dismayed at her own internal monologue. Yeah right, she'd seen what he was like then, withdrawn and morose, frigid as an icicle. There was only so much rejection one person could stand to take. She'd reached her limit-- she simply hadn't been capable of approaching Tsukasa, not knowing as she did that a cold dismissal was the best she could have hoped for. If he had ever made the first move towards reconciliation, then she might have had hope, then she might have tried. But that had never happened.  
  
And what about Amon? If she hadn't encountered him, hadn't seen in him, a way to fulfill her need, to ease her despairing loneliness, would he still have found Tsukasa? Still have seduced him? Who was to say? It wasn't likely, but it could have happened. Perhaps this was the crux of the matter? If Amon did not exist, had never interfered, then maybe, just maybe. . . she could have found her way to Tsukasa. . . If only she hadn't met Amon, hadn't kissed him, hadn't come to see him as himself and not a mere substitute for her absent fiance. If only, if only. . .  
  
All things seem so much clearer in hindsight.  
  
But now. . . Now there was nothing left to do.  
  
Shigeru brushed away the tears from her eyes. If she was going to be miserable, if she had to live with the consequences of her actions, then one thing was certain: She was damned well going to see that she experienced every last consequence. She was going to collect on her devil's bargain with Amon. It wouldn't help her; would probably make her more unhappy -- getting that one taste of affection which she was otherwise forbidden-- but a deal was a deal. This time, there would be no going back.  
  
She might not be able to have Tsukasa, either physically or emotionally, but She would have Amon one way or the other.  
  
Shigeru stood up, squared her shoulders, and firmed her jaw. Tears were futile. So were smiles. All that was needed now was action. ------  
  
It was but the work of a few minutes for Shigeru to pull herself more fully together, to change from her school uniform into something more suitable for going out on the town. She splashed water on her face, staring in the bathroom mirror until the red-rim around her eyes had faded somewhat. At least, she figured, in the dim light of the club, it would be hard to tell that she had so recently been crying.  
  
One final deep breath, and Shigeru was ready for action. She had always liked dressing up, liked playing different roles. Well then, really this was no different than that. Now she was playing the role of someone who still had self-confidence, who knew that the world was theirs to command. Just a costume like any of the hundreds of others that lingered in the roomy closets and storage chests of her family's many houses and apartments.  
  
She felt she had to do this. That she needed this to complete the cycle she had begun. Whether he wanted to or not. Amon must fulfill their bargain and make love to her. Night was falling and the club was waiting.  
  
-----  
  
Steady footsteps hid the fluttering of a nervous heart, as Shigeru approached the Inferno. The club was in full swing, a steady stream of revelers stepping from the fresh spring air into the stifling smoke and haze of the dark interior. As Shigeru crossed through the doors, she let herself merge with the crowds; just another drunken fool out for a good time, weaving through the smoky air, watching the people, pretending invisibility, and always, always keeping an eye out for a certain handsome bartender.  
  
It wasn't long before she saw him, at his usual post, of course, his insouciant smile marred by his calculating eye, as he milked each customer for all the cash they could throw down. As if his drinks were any more special than the ones served further down the bar by a less charming, if more sincere, man.  
  
Shigeru watched for a few minutes, trying to gauge his mood, trying not to lose her cool. Just because he'd taunted her, teased her, humiliated her, and left her crying for his touch as he left to fuck another man -- surely that was no reason to lose her nerve now. She wouldn't do that to herself. Not after all she'd been through so far. And so, Shigeru left off her watching, left off wallowing in self-pity, and stepped towards the bar.  
  
Too late, she noticed, recognized, the other person striding purposefully through the crowd.  
  
Doumyouji.  
  
The crowd parted before him like the Red Sea for Moses, as if fleeing the intensity of his gaze; the unwavering eyes fixed on Amon like twin lasers.  
  
Even Shigeru fell back a pace, as if recognizing the primacy of his needs, his confusion, his desire. But not for long. A moment's pause only, and Shigeru was once more elbowing and squeezing her way through the crowd.  
  
And now, there she was, and there they were. Staring at each other in a self-contained bubble of silence.  
  
Two men and one woman, nothing between them except each other. A tangled web of words and deeds and needs, all that bound them, all that kept them apart.  
  
To be continued.  
  
~~~doh! I never thought that hunt would eat my soul to the point where I no longer had time to update on a weekly basis. But it has, I always hated authors who updated once every blue moon, and now I'm one of them, I'm so ashamed. I couldn't even remember what the hell my plot thread was at this point when I sat down this evening to pound out this chapter before I got back to my other responsibilities. Oh well. I hope this follows somewhat from where I last left off. Sorry sorry sorry for the slowness, for the lameness, and the dubious quality of this. . . chapter, whatever it is . at least it's up. ~cm~~~ 


	31. you call that a confrontation?

~~~Why oh why, you ask, have I not updated anything in so long? When I already said that I'm drowning In free time? Answer so simple and mundane. Writer's block. I started chapters for all my fics. . but they died a sentence or a paragraph later. As this chapter evidences, I've still not detoured around said roadblock fully, but soon. . . . i hope. . if only life wasn't so distracting~~  
  
----  
  
to recap the plot thus far (since it's been awhile):  
  
Story starts 6 months after "What fools men are" left off. Tsukasa has come back from nyc to be forcibly engaged to Shigeru once more. Akira dumps Yuki, who then, in a fit of depression is seduced by Soujiro, himself acting out his insecurities that Tsukushi might leave him for Tsukasa. Predictably, Tsukushi flips out. Soujiro flips out and acts like even more of an idiot. Meanwhile, Shigeru and Tsukasa are caught up in a complicated love/lust triangle with Amon, Tsukasa's almost-lookalike. Tsukasa and Tsukushi take the first tentative steps towards becoming friends once more, and Soujiro tries to make amends. Tsukushi, fool that she is, forgives him, mostly. Tsukasa has sex with Amon, and now he and Shigeru are headed for a confrontation with that very man. And that is where today's chapter picks up  
  
--------  
  
Awkward silence.  
  
Well, and what would You expect from a meeting such as this? In the background the melded babble of a hundred voices, the muted thump of a heavy beat. In the foreground; our heroes: Shigeru. Tsukasa. Amon. A lifted eyebrow, an unspoken challenge. Lips half opened as if to speak. Silence. As if the three of them were someplace far away, away from the mundanity, the publicity, of such a place as this club.  
  
Shigeru and Tsukasa warily regarded one another from the corners of their eyes; Tsukasa as if Shigeru were a startled deer preparing to bolt from him; Shigeru as if Tsukasa were some fabled monster who, with the slightest move or word, could inflict more grievous wounds in her already bloodied heart.  
  
But what of Amon? He watched, as the seconds ticked on, his eyes slowly developing a suspiciously wicked gleam, his lips curving up in a secretive smile. At last, he broke the silence, almost feeling shards of tension exploding in the air that surrounded them.  
  
"Shigeru. Tsukasa. How good of you to come." An ironic lift of the eyebrows, a nod to each of them in turn.  
  
"I. . . " Shigeru began, blushing faintly. She'd come to demand Amon hold up his end of their bargain, but now. . how could she say such a thing in front of Tsukasa? Fortunately, (or some more conservative souls might say, unluckily) Amon had, with his usual predatory intuition, deciphered the not- so-subtle reasoning behind her visit.  
  
"Are you sure you want this?" He interrupted her stammered incoherence, with a knowing leer, and a tilt of his head that completely excluded Tsukasa from the discussion.  
  
"Yes." Shigeru held her ground. She was not about to back down now, after she'd done so much, for so little gain.  
  
"You know it means nothing to me?" He didn't know why even bothered anymore. More than that -- if felt strange that he even cared enough to try and dissuade her from her folly one last time. But hell, he'd spent enough time in her company these past few weeks that he could justify one last burst of compassion.  
  
"Yes." She bit her lip and glanced nervously at Doumyouji, as if wondering how he perceived this strange exchange.  
  
"You know It won't solve a thing." Amon leaned closer, the lazily heated sparkle in his eyes -- that of a predator closing in for the kill -- bearing no relation whatsoever to the serious question in his voice.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You know I'm no replacement for him." A nod of his head indicated [the now extremely impatient and confused] Doumyouji.  
  
"Yes." In a rush she continued, unable to bear this torturous interrogation any longer, "And I know, you don't love me, he doesn't love me, nobody loves me! You think I don't know that, you asshole? You don't need to rub it in any more. I wish to god I'd never met either of you, I wish I didn't love you both! But there it is! And You." Shigeru fixed Amon with the steely gaze borne of desperation. "You owe me! All I ask is that you fulfill your part of the bargain. . . . You owe me that much at least. . . And then. . .I'll never bother you again. I'll leave you alone. Both of you. So don't worry on That account. I'll never come 'round here anymore!" She wound down her brief tirade, her cheeks flushed with tension, fists clenched as she awaited Amon's reply.  
  
Off to the side, Tsukasa blinked in confusion. What were they arguing about? What twisted game was Amon playing with Shigeru? It was with a shock that he finally noticed how dreadful Shigeru looked, her normally vibrant eyes downcast, never quite meeting his, even as she glanced his way. Lips that were meant for laughing, drawn now into a sad little frown. She looked. . .She looked like him. Tsukasa's eyes widened as he finally realized the comparison: until very recently, he too had worn the despairing look of loneliness, like some hideous memento of love's battles. Had he really caused Shigeru's decline? Or was it Amon whose heartless flirtations had left her heart bruised and aching? Tsukasa was by now, so caught up in his own revelatory musings, that he almost missed Amon's final answer.  
  
"How could I refuse, when you put in terms like that?" Amon reached into his pocket, and slipped something small and flat into Shigeru's hand. "I get off at 11. Meet me there."  
  
Mutely, Shigeru looked down at her hand. Of course. He'd slipped her a hotel room key. Smug bastard. Why she was always destined to fall for guys like these, she just didn't know.  
  
"What's going on here?" Tsukasa's harsh voice cut through the air, an unwelcome reminder to Shigeru of the total lack of privacy with which they were conducting this affair. She opened her mouth to speak, but Amon beat her to the reply.  
  
"Unfinished business."  
  
Tsukasa glared at him, unsatisfied with this answer. "Unfinished business my ass! I heard you too-- What game are you playing here, you bastard?" It was déjà vu all over again. The last time he'd seen Amon, he'd asked a similar question, with unexpected results-- this time, what would the outcome be? "Shigeru, What are you up to?" If Amon wouldn't give a straight answer, perhaps she would.  
  
"Nothing that concerns you!" she blurted, biting her lip and turning to leave. It should concern him, but when had he ever cared what she did, so long as it didn't involve him? No, no, it was too late. She wouldn't tell him a goddamned thing. What would be the point?  
  
"Shigeru, wait a minute." Tsukasa demanded. This thing. This thing between him and Amon that he'd come here to clarify, it involved her too, right? She shouldn't go. But she did, and Tsukasa was left facing off with Amon once again.  
  
"Back for more?" Amon now devoted his full attention to Tsukasa.  
  
"What is this to you really?" Tsukasa demanded instead. "Is it a game? What are you doing to Shigeru?" The question unasked-- What are you doing to me?  
  
But of course, the arrogant bartender already knew, "All of life is a game. I play to win. And I got what I wanted. Don't fight it boy, you're the same way. You do what it takes to achieve your goals -- Isn't that what the business world is all about? The power of the CEO? I told you before, I tell you again, we're alike you and I. And Like calls to Like. What I have, you need. What you have I want. . .It's simple really. Why make it any more complicated than it has to be?" his ironic, sardonic tone, the knowing gleam in his eye, the way his hand reached out to caress Doumyouji's cheek, merely served to fuel Tsukasa's suddenly flaring rage, as his hand slapped Amon's away.  
  
"And Shigeru? What of her?"  
  
"Oh, what do you care?" Amon shot back, his tone revealing more real emotion than he'd meant to show, "When have you ever cared for her? Stop hiding your fears behind a veil of false concern! I know that girl far better than you ever will, even if you are marrying her! You put her through more emotional hell than I ever will, yet you don't even have the courage to talk to her. Have you even spoken to her once, since your engagement? No. You haven't. You have No right to act like you care about our arrangements."  
  
"She's my friend." Tsukasa protested thoughtlessly, feeling his hackles rise in defense against Amon's accusations.  
  
"No." Amon returned flatly, "She's mine."  
  
Tsukasa blinked, as his brain struggled to process the argument. It was with a sinking feeling that he came to the realization that Amon was correct. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he'd continued to associate Shigeru with Sakurako and the rest of the F4 -- as a friend in his circle of acquaintance. And he did care about his friends, however distant and self-absorbed he might act. But the whole estrangement with Tsukushi, the self-imposed isolation in New York, the Shock of the engagement, it had all thrown him for a loop. His emotions were roiled, his attention distracted, his actions erratic. . . he'd avoided Shigeru since the engagement, though, not because he didn't consider her a friend still, but because he hadn't been able to cope with the finality, the inescapable entwining of their fates and futures. But while he got tangled up in self-absorbed introspection -- not to mention this Thing with Amon -- he'd completely neglected to make amends with her. He'd meant to, really. He remembered talking to Tsukushi about it -- but Never to Shigeru.  
  
Amon was right. He was an idiot.  
  
Something would have to be done. And soon. Before she did something stupid. Something she would live to regret.  
  
"You asshole. You don't understand half as much as you think." Tsukasa growled, half-heartedly, as his distracted brain tried to figure out where Shigeru had gone, and what Amon was up to.  
  
"Believe what you will." Amon shrugged. He could tell by the thoughtful look on Tsukasa's face, that the boy was finally coming to grips with the reality of the Shigeru situation. Now, if only he'd accept the reality of this relationship as well, then there might be some real progress today. Oh well, when all else failed, there was always the surprise attack. Lured on by the urge to possess Tsukasa -- to temporarily rid his mind of all thoughts but those concerning Amon, Amon struck. A short lunge, an arm wrapped around Tsukasa's head and fisted in his hair, hungry lips seeking their twins. Short, heated, and to the point, until Tsukasa broke away, scowling furiously, to lash a retaliatory fist into Amon's stomach.  
  
"You fucker!" he fumed, blushing, despite himself "Don't flatter yourself, That's not what I came here for. None of this shit is" Though a small part of his brain denied that thought. Wasn't a confrontation with Amon exactly what he'd come here for?  
  
But not like that!  
  
Then, what like? The nagging voice remained.  
  
Like this.  
  
No more of letting Amon manipulate him, no more of reacting as puppet to his master's strings. It was time for Doumyouji Tsukasa to be completely in control of his own life once more. He'd found his answer after all. Yes, yes he wanted Amon, but he was recovering from his months-long despair now -- he didn't Need Amon to show him how to live again. that purpose had been served. The twisted mirror, the lust and the desire, it might be real, or it might be a reflection of his self-absorption, his inability to look beyond himself. And that -- that would no longer do. He didn't want to be that person anymore. Didn't like being that person.. So it would have to end. No more games and no more doubts.  
  
Resolved, Tsukasa spun on his heel and stalked away, leaving an irate, and startlingly confused Amon staring in his wake, uncertain if he'd actually achieved any of his own personal agenda during this mishmash of a conversation. He certainly hoped so, though a small crease of worry marred his forehead, as he wondered, if perhaps, during all this, somehow, he'd managed to lose the game after all. Would Tsukasa be back again, or had he slipped the hook? Would his game with Shigeru play through to its desired conclusion?  
  
How was he to know? Clever he might be, but in the end, Kunisawa Amon was human, and fallible as any other man.  
  
Yet still, in the smoke and noise-filled clutter of the crowded bar, Amon's lips still tingled from their encounter with Tsukasa; his eyes still recalled the spark and fire in the younger man's gaze. And Amon knew what it was to fear the loss of something that might never have been. Something that he'd never even believed in.  
  
Love.  
  
He'd done everything right. He'd thought he'd won the game. But just now, the look in Shigeru's eyes, the smouldering depths of fury and remorse in Tsukasa's gaze, these things told him that everything was falling apart around him. And there was nothing he could do.  
  
Nothing but keep playing.  
  
He wiped a suddenly weary arm across his face, as if to erase the doubts and worries that hazed his perceptions, and went about his job, letting the hours pass by in a melange of shouted orders, clinking glasses, and too- loud music.  
  
And then, too soon, too late. Too. . . something. . . the clock struck 11.  
  
His shift was over.  
  
TBC.  
  
~~~confused? If so, I'm sorry. Goddamned writing block not being so useful here. I suck., it's true, so if you please, will you beat my brainmeats with a brick until my train of thought reappears at the station? Then I promise, my writing will return to making as much sense as it ever did. Really. In other commentary -- I have to ask, how is it that at this late stage, people are still telling me the plot and pairings in this fic suck? I mean really, I know it's not the most successful story ever written -- but that was never the point. there never was any need to write a sequel to Fools. The point was that it was an experiment, a game to play with the characters. Success isn't important so much as the Trying, the Testing, the pushing of the boundaries of what is acceptable and believable. I had to try. That is all I'll claim. And thank whatever gods there may be, that it's almost over. ~~~ 


	32. not so chance encounters

~~ Ah people who never quite seem to do the right thing. The story of my life. I swear, though, it's true, fictional characters do get to take actions to extremes instead of enjoying subtle dramas of emotional nuance. Oh well. The soap opera of the biggest idiots will soon draw to a close. Not more than 3 more chapters, I should think. . . two if I stop blithering like a fool, myself. . .~~~  
  
Shigeru walked tentatively into the lobby of the Heavenly Palace Hotel. Yeah, the name was definitely a clue that this place might just possibly be a bit overdone. She grimaced. She, herself, was not known for her overwhelming sense of taste, but still-- the gaudy decorations in the lobby; the gilt and the -- was that supposed to be sculpture? Ugh. Amon was taunting her, she decided at long last. Definitely a statement of some sort. Was it a less-than subtle gibe at her own tendencies for excessive exuberance, excessive drive? His way of telling her that, like the decorations in this place, she was taking a good thing too far?  
  
What an asshole. He had no right.  
  
But then again, maybe she was just reading too deeply into it. Hopefully, that was all.  
  
Shigeru reached into her pocket for the keycard. Should she go up to the room to wait? Should she meet Amon here in the lobby? What if he didn't show?  
  
Too many questions! Too many doubts! Wasn't she the girl who loved costumes and disguises? Well then, let her put on a disguise now! One that didn't even require a change of attire. Shigeru took a deep breath, stretched her shoulders, lifted her chin high. Yes, that was it. She would be strong, confident, a worldly woman meeting her lover. Nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to hide. And so what if it was all a lie, a clever illusion to sooth her broken heart. No one had to know, as long as she smiled.  
  
How long could she keep this up? Shigeru felt the minutes slowly tick past, her resolve fluctuating with every gust of wind through the hotel doors, with every curious glance shot her way by passing strangers. Huh. Perhaps it would be better, after all, to retreat to the solitude of the room.  
  
On the other hand, Shigeru mused, what would she do there, all alone, but fret. Without even the distractions offered by this overly ornamented space. An image of herself posed on the bed like some character out of an erotic movie, awaiting the arrival of her tormentor, her partner in crime, the friend who was not a friend.  
  
The lobby doors opened again, the cool draft raising goosebumps on Shigeru's bare arms. Tensely, as with each previous breeze, she shot a glance at the new arrival. This time, however, she recognized the man who entered. Tall, fierce, dark hair. . . Kunisawa Amon. Her throat clenched, she took a deep breath, looked away. So he'd come after all. She turned back towards the expected meeting, turned -- and realized her mistake. Not Amon after all, but Doumyouji, curly hair, grim frown and all.  
  
Oh shit.  
  
----------  
  
Doumyouji stormed out of the Inferno, flipping open his cellphone as he walked. Endless rings, and voicemail. Not helpful in the least.  
  
"Goddamnit, Akira, pick up the fucking phone." He shouted his message. "I need information. And I need it now."  
  
Now what? Tsukasa paused, frowning intently at his phone. . . There was one other who would undoubtedly be able to help. . . but did he want to call that number? Not really. But did he have a choice? No. Not really. Not if he wanted to keep his hard-earned self respect. And how bad could it be, anyway. . .It's not like he and Soujiro were really rivals anymore. . .  
  
He dialed. The phone rang. Once, Twice. . .  
  
"Hello?" Cautious, but friendly, not a hint of the old carefree boisterousness. No surprise that, they were none of them, as carefree as they had used to pretend.  
  
"Nishikado. I need your help."  
  
"I'm listening."  
  
"I need you to identify a hotel for me."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Look, I don't have time to explain. I just need to know, what hotel has a keycard with a design that looks like. . . " He began trying to describe what he'd seen Shigeru accepting from Amon, Unfortunately, he'd only had a glimpse, and his descriptive skills were somewhat lacking to begin with.  
  
"Shit, Tsukasa. There's gotta be ten different places, at Least, with that general motif! Can you be more specific? And what the hell is this about anyway, since when you frequent that sort of hotel?" and with an almost audible leer, "Does this have anything to do with Kunisawa, or your appearance at school the other day?"  
  
"Get your fucking mind out of the gutter, Nishikado. I've got a problem here. Are you going to help me or not?"  
  
"All right. Geez. Calm the fuck down." Soujiro sighed, "But you'd better explain later. Do you have a pen?"  
  
After fumbling around a bit, and realizing he had neither pen nor paper, Tsukasa wasted more of his rapidly dwindling time in purchasing said objects at the nearest convenience store. Finally, he was ready to jot down the names Soujiro rattled off.  
  
". . . That's all I can think of. You're on your own from here." Soujiro finished.  
  
"Right. Thanks." Tsukasa growled, and hung up the phone. That wasn't that bad. Perhaps it was a hopeful sign for the rest of this endeavor?  
  
Well, not quite. It was now 9:30 pm, and he had an hour and a half to find out which of these hotels Amon had lured Shigeru to. And so began the first of many fruitless calls to directory assistance. No, the Imperial Inn had no guests named Kunisawa, no, nor Okawahara. What about the Sunrise Chalet? Nope. Not there either. Fuck. And the list was longer than he'd thought it could possibly be, with no way of proving that Soujiro had even known, or remembered all the possibilities! Shit. And the seconds kept ticking by, leaving Doumyouji more frustrated, more urgent with each call. Not to mention the dying charge on his cell phone battery. One more call, he kept telling himself. One more. A Doumyouji doesn't give up that easily. Not for their friends. Not for anything.  
  
". . . Excuse me, did you say Kunisawa?"  
  
"Yes! Didn't you hear me the first time? Kunisawa Amon, you deaf jackass!" Tsukasa berated the poor receptionist, "Is he staying there or not?"  
  
Yes. Yes." The poor man quavered, "Room 854. Shall I put a call through?"  
  
"No." Tsukasa bit off the word, his finger poised to disconnect the call, before remembering one last critical detail. "Shit. What hotel is this?"  
  
Fortunately for the plans of Doumyouji Tsukasa, the Heavenly Palace was within walking distance. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Amon would choose convenience over style. He had fifteen minutes left now, to get there and Stop Shigeru' s madness before it was too late.  
  
------------  
  
Breathing heavily, Tsukasa stormed through the heavy doors, into the baroque splendor of the hotel lobby. Even he, having grown up surrounded by tastelessly unnecessary displays of wealth, had to cringe at the pseudo- decadence of the décor. Shit. He might not care for the girl all of that much himself, but Shigeru deserved far better than this.  
  
And. . . She'd seen him. Tsukasa picked up his pace, a few great strides taking him up to the girl before she could run away.  
  
"Doumyouji. What are you doing here?" She tried to brush past him  
  
"Keeping you from making a huge mistake."  
  
"What do you care? What do you know?" Shigeru turned angrily suspicious eyes up towards her erstwhile fiance. "What did he tell you?"  
  
"Nothing. But I'm not as stupid as you seem to think."  
  
"Stupid? Stupid! I never thought you were stupid. . . I just know you never pay attention. . when you just don't care."  
  
She was about to continue, when Doumyouji interrupted. "I never said I didn't care."  
  
"Oh, no. You didn't have to." Shigeru shot back bitterly, "But it's obvious, even to me. Tsukushi tried to pretend; she told me you'd call sometime, that you didn't hate me, that we could work something out! But I knew better. Do you think I wanted any of this either? I never wanted to get engaged! I didn't want to ruin your life. I didn't want to ruin my life. But it happened, and we have to live with it. I thought we were friends once. I thought we still could be. . .But now I know better -- now I know you hate me. . . for something that's not even my doing! You hear me, Doumyouji Tsukasa. This is not my fault! It's all you!"  
  
"I don't hate you." Tsukasa looked confusedly down at the hysterical girl, "I never said I hated you."  
  
"Don't lie to me." Shigeru cried, tears of frustration rising in her eyes, "And anyway," she continued with a falsely brisk shake of her head, "I hate you too." Her voice suddenly cracked as it rose in pitch and volume, "Do you hear me, Doumyouji? I hate you!" "You ruined my life! I hate you, I hate you! " She accompanied each repetition of her words with a violent kick directed at Tsukasa's shins. She seemed completely oblivious to the scene they were making.  
  
"Ow! Stop that!" Tsukasa hissed, as he reached out to grab Shigeru's wrists, in an attempt to fend off her attack by holding her at a distance.  
  
"You asshole!" Shigeru continued her futile attack, "Let me go!"  
  
"No. You're coming with me."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Shigeru twisted against his restraining hold. This was so humiliating.  
  
"You are." Tsukasa was adamant. "And we're going to have a Talk, you and I. . . . Stop fucking kicking me already, damnit!"  
  
It was plain this confrontation was getting them nowhere, and both individuals were beginning to wonder when, or if, Amon was going to make his appearance and further complexify matters. Perhaps, Tsukasa thought, it would be in his best interests to move this so-called discussion elsewhere. Inexorably, he began pulling the still-struggling Shigeru towards the door. The paparazzi were going to have a field day with this scene, if anyone were to catch them here.  
  
"Tsukasa!"  
  
Startled, Doumyouji looked wildly around for the source of the shout. Standing on the other side of the lobby, looking vaguely embarrassed, was Akira, his arm around the waist of a statuesque brunette.  
  
"Shit." Shigeru cursed as she followed Tsukasa's gaze.  
  
Across the room, Akira murmured smooth apologies to his date, as he extricated himself from her arm. Duty before pleasure; sometimes his friends could be such a bloody pain in the ass. If only he'd chosen someplace else to go tonight. . .but then, this place hadn't been his choice anyway, but that of his date. Ah well.  
  
"Tsukasa. Shigeru. What the hell is going on here?" Akira's pleasant features creased in confusion.  
  
"Nothing." Tsukasa moodily replied.  
  
"Akira, please, make him go away!" Shigeru turned pleading doe eyes at the red-haired boy.  
  
"Oh wait." Akira snapped his fingers, as if struck by an idea, "You two are talking now! That's great! Am I interrupting a big date? Did you kiss and make up. . . Or," he leered, "Are you two kids on your way to an assignation with your Other friend?"  
  
"Well I was!" Shigeru exclaimed, refusing to be ashamed of her actions, "But this bastard won't let me go."  
  
"I don't see your boyfriend anywhere around here!" Tsukasa returned somewhat snidely.  
  
"He's not My boyfriend!" Shigeru spat passionately, "He's yours!"  
  
At this, Akira finally succumbed to the impending laughter tickling the back of his throat. "My god, you two are hilarious! Are you sure you're not on speaking terms?"  
  
"Quite." Shigeru muttered.  
  
"I never said anything of the sort." Doumyouji snorted.  
  
"Damn, you two are more childish than Tsukushi." Akira shook his head again, "Right then. Let's go."  
  
"Where?" Shigeru eyed him suspiciously, unhappy once more at the ruination of her plans.  
  
"You two need to talk. Plainly, Tsukasa wants to talk. So you're going to."  
  
"I have nothing to say to him" Shigeru sniffed.  
  
"Now who's being a fool?" Tsukasa shot back, needled by her attitude. After all, here he was, trying to make amends, trying to be the friend he thought he was, and she just blew him off. Was it any wonder then, that their engagement remained a disaster?  
  
"Oh shut up. The both of you." Akira sighed, and continued to himself, "Why do I have to be the babysitter all the time? What did I ever do to deserve this fate?" But somebody had to take care of them, keep 'em from fucking up worse than they already had. "Right then. You two, listen up, we're going up to your room. And you're not coming out until you can speak civilly to one another. Got it? Good. I'm getting some reinforcements."  
  
"Good." Tsukasa grinned a fierce, mirthless smile -- more a baring of teeth than anything else. This would be fine. One more opportunity to undo the damage he'd done to himself. One more chance to repair the hurts he'd caused another. It wouldn't be easy, of that he was sure, and he mightn't be successful. But at least he was trying once more -- trying to do the right thing, trying to be a better man; the man he thought he could be. Only time would tell, if Shigeru and he could still be friends, despite their engagement, despite the impending marriage, despite their relationship with Amon, despite it all.  
  
Time. They had time, if only they could learn to use it.  
  
And they would, of this he was sure. With The help of their friends, they could make the best of this time, they could overcome the walls that lay between them.  
  
At least, it was something worth striving for.  
  
For her own part, Shigeru was doubtful. Why the sudden reversal on Doumyouji's part. What about Amon? The loneliness and the hurt couldn't be that easily dissipated. Not by one declaration of friendship. And how was she supposed to feel, after all? Even if they were to be friends, she still loved him. She might even love Amon. How could that Not be weird?  
  
But still, this was something, right? Better than the absolute Nothing that was all she thought she had. Right?  
  
Right.  
  
Shigeru sighed in acquiescence, and slowly surrendered her key to Akira; let herself be led to the elevator, and thence to a dull room, much like any other hotel room.  
  
There was much to talk about, and they had to begin somewhere.  
  
"So, what's it really like?" Shigeru asked with false cheerfulness, as Akira left to stand guard outside the door, "Since you've deprived me of my opportunity once more, you have to tell me -- what's sex with Amon really like?"  
  
TBC. 


	33. sentry duty

~~argh. Another day of rain. And it fucking snowed again. goddamnit where the hell's my springtime? One crocus, is that too much to ask? Fucking hell I hate this weather, all I want is to be able to go outside without my winter coat. And mittens. In april! Goddamnit! Thus ends my rant of the day. On with the next installment of 'What idiots are we all!' enjoy ~cm~~  
  
"Sorry, I took so long!" Tsukushi panted as she skidded to a halt next to Akira. "I missed my train. . . Yeah, So what's this all about? Your message was a bit confusing?"  
  
Akira pushed away from the wall -- or more precisely, from the doorframe, where his ear had been pressed in a futile effort to distinguish the murmur of voices behind the closed door from the rush of blood in his ears. "Thank god you're here! Shigeru and Tsukasa locked up in there. Don't let them out. I gotta run to the bathroom. I'll explain when I get back!" Without waiting for her reply, he sped off down the hall, as if pursued by the furies.  
  
Puzzled, Tsukushi slumped against the doorframe, unconsciously imitating Akira's previous stance. The message she'd received an hour or so ago, as she'd gone off shift, had been rather garbled. She'd only managed to get the gist of it; to wit, that her presence was urgently needed at this hotel for something involving Shigeru? Akira had sounded stressed, so she'd come. She just hoped the explanation was good. Maybe she could listen through the door and get some clue?  
  
But no, Tsukushi had no more luck with the eavesdropping than Akira had.  
  
"It's no use." Akira sighed, returning from his mission of bladder relief. "These doors have great soundproofing. I should've thought of that earlier." He sat down cross-legged on the floor, and Tsukushi slumped down next to him.  
  
"So What Is going on?"  
  
"Told you. Got Shigeru and Tsukasa locked up in there. Not going to let them out until they sort things out."  
  
"Umm.. How did you convince them to do that, and why here of all places?!" Tsukushi waved a disbelieving arm at their surroundings. This hotel seemed an unlikely choice, to say the least, for such a tete a tete. . . .  
  
"Err. .." Akira looked slightly abashed, "Actually, it wasn't my idea. I sort of stumbled into it by accident-- see, I was on a date. . . What? Don't look at me like that, She was paying! I didn't choose this place either! I have better taste! So anyway, what's the first thing I see as we're walking across the lobby? Yeah, Tsukasa is standing there with Shigeru kicking him in the shins, I nearly died laughing."  
  
"There were here together?" Tsukushi's eyes widened in further disbelief.  
  
"Not really. . . . I kinda got the impression that one, or the other of them was waiting for that Kunisawa guy. . ." Akira paused, "I thought at first it was Tsukasa. But when I actually got close enough to hear the argument. . .I think maybe it was Shigeru? Anyway, that's the other reason We're out here. Keep unwanted company from barging in. . ."  
  
"Oh." Tsukushi mouthed faintly, "but then how did you guys get from down there to up here?"  
  
"Simple. Apparently Tsukasa wanted to set some things straight too-- and he's a lot stronger than Shigeru is. . ." Akira laughed. "Fuck if I know what's going on in their teensy little minds. That's why I was trying to listen through the door. Ah well. Should've known they had thick doors here. Anna -- my date-- is quite the screamer, She Would know all about which hotels have thicker walls." He sighed and leaned against the wall. "It's gonna be a long night. Glad you showed up."  
  
"Didn't you call anyone else?" Tsukushi looked askance at the redhead lounging beside her.  
  
"Nope." Akira closed his eyes nonchalantly, against the sight of Tsukushi flipping out in disbelief.  
  
"What?! Why not!? You think I'm going to sit here all night? What the hell? I've got homework to do, and sleep, and why not Sakurako, or Rui, or Soujiro?!. . ."  
  
"'Cause I wanted to talk to you." Akira cracked open an eye to glance at Tsukushi, "Haven't spoken to you in a while. Wanted to see how you and Soujiro were doing. . . And make sure you weren't still mad at me."  
  
"Mad at you. . .?" Tsukushi sighed, answering the last question first. "What for?"  
  
"Yuki." Akira shrugged, as if that should be obvious.  
  
"Oh." She thought for a second, "Well, I was. . . but I supposed you had your reasons. I mean, I always guessed people were upset with me when I dumped Tsukasa and started seeing 'Jiro. So I couldn't stay mad at you for dumping her, 'cause sometimes things just can't be helped. . . And as for what came after? No. . . I wanted to blame you, 'cause it hurt to blame 'Jiro, and Yuki. . . I don't know. No, you couldn't have foreseen that." Tsukushi shook her head with a small smile. ."And anyway, I'd've forgiven you by now anyway,"  
  
"Yuki. Yes." Akira sighed in reminiscence, "You know, at first, I really liked her naivete. It was adorably cute -- such a change from the older women I was used to. In her own simple way, she seemed to realize something about the inherent possibilities of the world that I was too blind to see. Later, I realized, it was just an unwillingness on her part to really grow up." He glanced up, checking to see how Tsukushi was taking his critique of her friend, and seeing that she looked more thoughtful than murderous, continued, "You were sort of like that once too-- you know. Trying to stay childish as if that would make the world stand still. Pretending not to see the truth in front of your eyes. But you grew up, you grew out of that phase. . . Yuki. . . She still hasn't. And, duh, I don't mean sexually; any idiot kid can have sex. I mean in maturity. . . I guess that's why I got tired, of her, you know? I deal with enough childishness naivete at home, I don't want my relationship to be just the same. . . . She doesn't know how to think the worse of anybody, doesn't know how to exercise good judgement. . .." He turned to look directly at Tsukushi once more, "I'm sorry. If I'd had any idea that Soujiro would be such an ass, or she such an idiot, I'd've never sent him to take care of when we broke up. I feel I should apologize, you know. In many ways it was my error in judgement too. . . And I'm sorry too, for neglecting to give Soujiro the smacking around he needed afterwards too. I guess I was just too pissed off to see how badly you guys were hurting." Akira glanced down again, abashed as if he should have been the one to help set things right again in her relationship, as if he'd failed in his duties as one of their best friends.  
  
"Thanks." Tsukushi's lips twitched up in a small smile, though her hands twisted restlessly in her lap. "I don't blame you. But thanks for the thought. It means a lot. . but still. . . I guess it was better I learned that lesson sooner, you now, than later. . ."  
  
"He really does love you." Akira protested.  
  
"I know." Tsukushi sighed, resting her forehead against her knees, her posture suggesting defeat, "And I love him. Damn it! I don't want this to end up like Doumyouji and me! It shouldn't be this hard! But I used to trust him. . ."  
  
"And now you don't."  
  
". . . And now I don't." Tsukushi nodded miserably, "He never wanted to hurt me. But. . . oh hell -- You were his best friend!" she glared accusingly at Akira, "All those years, he was so miserable, and now he's so afraid of being happy. How could you not know?! How could you let him destroy the only thing that made him happy?" Sheepishly she murmured an apologetic aside, "Ok, I guess I do blame you, a little," and continued, "He's afraid I'll leave him, so he leaves me first! What am I supposed to do? I'm always afraid he's going to run away again; so how can I trust him? But if I don't trust him, he gets nervous, like he's going to bolt. . . .I just don't know what to do." In the pause that followed, Akira forbore to say anything. Eventually, Tsukushi continued, "It only gets worse, you know. . . I can't even kiss him without thinking about Yuki. I feel so selfish; I know he's had a ton of other women-- but I want him all for myself -- I don't want to wonder if Yuki felt like this, I don't want to wonder, if she was that much better than me, or if he's going to run off again with some bimbo who is. He won't be happy then, and I know it! But is he happy now? Am I? I've done all I can, and It's just not enough. . . .What else can I do?"  
  
"Hmmm. . . ." Akira pondered, letting his eyes drift shut while a hundred possibilities raced through his mind, and were discarded, each in turn.  
  
"Make him jealous." A harsh, and unexpected voice cut through the duo's shared reverie.  
  
"Wha?" Akira's eyes snapped open, and Tsukushi's head jerked from its resting place on her knees. "Kunisawa." Akira grunted, his eyes finally focusing on the man standing before him, "So you did show up after all."  
  
"Mmm." Was Amon's non-committal reply.  
  
"What. What do you mean?" Tsukushi's question was more hesitant.  
  
"Tell you in a minute." Amon grinned down at Tsukushi, a fierce expression lighting his eyes, "But first, how are the two lovebirds doing?"  
  
"You knew?" Akira made the question sound like more of an accusation.  
  
"I'm not a fool." Amon snorted, "Though I didn't expect to see guards posted,"  
  
"I'm not letting you in there." Akira started to push to his feet.  
  
"Relax, I just wanted to see if Shigeru did show up after all. I wasn't sure." Amon laughed, "But personally, I feel no overwhelming need or desire to settle my half of our bargain. This is a much more satisfactory conclusion." With that, he settled to a seat across the hallway, while Tsukushi and Akira jumped to the simultaneous questions.  
  
"What do you know about all this?" "Bargain?" followed, even more quickly by Akira's demand, "And what of you and Tsukasa?"  
  
"Hah. Calm down." Amon snorted, "It all relates back to what I first said. Make 'em jealous, and they'll come running back to demand your attention, than anything else." He stretched complacently, "It worked for me. . . See, Me and Shigeru made this deal . . ." and briefly he related the story of his conquest of Tsukasa. Akira and Tsukushi nodding along at the parts they knew already. ". . . So then, I got what I wanted. And Unless I'm totally delusional, which I never have been before, Tsukasa's not going to be able to stay away, no matter what he claims." Here, the older man smiled a very self-satisfied grin, as he savored his conquest. Fuck love, it was the having and the sparring, and the heat of passion that made it all worthwhile. Tsukasa couldn't resist it, any more than a moth could resist circling the flame. Or so Amon told himself, trying to act more confident than he really felt.  
  
"But Shigeru, there, she was still losing out. I made a promise to her, didn't I; myself or Tsukasa. One way or the other Miss Okawahara was going to have one of us. So, if I fuck her like she wants, Tsukasa gets pissed, and then I don't get what I want from him. On the other hand, if I make Tsukasa jealous of the friendship Shigeru and I seem to have, then he's likely to jump her himself, just to prove he's better than me."  
  
"So that's what you think they're doing in there?" Akira lifted a mocking eyebrow. "You can't be serious."  
  
"Oh No." Amon laughed, "Though it'd be funny if they were. . Hey, maybe I should pop on in, see if we could make a threesome of it? . . .No? . . .Oh well, it was just an idea. Nah. . .They're probably just talking. When he stormed out of the club, Tsukasa seemed pretty pissed about the idea that she might find me a better friend than he. What an idiot! But it's all good. That's what makes him so cute. But yeah, he's undoubtedly trying to prove right now, whatever it is Shigeru wants to hear. . ." Amon, plainly had no fears speaking part of his mind before these two.  
  
"Oh." Tsukushi murmured blankly. "Oh."  
  
"Yeah. You totally should have stuck with me, Tsukushi. See what brilliance you're missing?" He gave a self-deprecating laugh, as if trying to defuse any tension that a reminder of his last meeting with Tsukushi might have inspired. "Anyway, Couldn't help overhearing part of your conversation earlier. Can't believe you're still with that idiot boy." Amon's lips twisted up in a moue of sardonic regret, "But if you really want to keep him, there's my advice. What works for me, can work for you. And so what if Some other chick out there is hotter, or sexier; you have something more important -- you have the devotion and the strength, the soul that is what anyone with sense really wants. So let him screw Yuki or whatever her name is; it doesn't matter, the only one who can give the idiot what he really needs is you, so don't you forget it!" The ferocity in Amon's tone shocked Tsukushi into immobility, so that she hardly even flinched at his next move, when he scooted across the hall to give her a hard, but chaste peck on he cheek.  
  
"I gotta go catch up on my sleep, Don't you kids forget to tell Tsukasa I stopped by to see him! And remember, Tsukushi, what I said. I meant it. . . Anyway, I'm sure I'll be seeing you two around!" Abruptly, he stood up and strode off down the hall.  
  
"That was weird." Tsukushi sighed.  
  
"Asshole." Akira frowned, "Don't know what you all see in him. . ."  
  
"Do you think he meant it?"  
  
"Meant what?"  
  
"What he said about jealousy?" Tsukushi asked timidly. . .  
  
"Nah. . ." Akira shrugged, "Bullshit. He's just grandstanding. He knows you're not going to go around cheating just to make 'Jiro jealous. How stupid can he get?" But even so, a sneaky plan was forming in the playboy's clever brain; a silly way to help his two friends repour the foundations of their shaky relationship.  
  
Hmm. . . oh yes, a plan indeed. . .  
  
TBC.  
  
~~This chapter is dedicated to:  
  
A selfish reader; whose kind email made me get off my lazy ass and start writing again after months of inspirationless writer's block.  
  
Jade; whose reviews continue to rock my world  
  
As well as  
  
Mental_image, Ru, star_gal, Toinks, and all the others whose amazing reviews help keep me writing even when I'm not sure where the hell my plots are going. . .  
  
Thanks guys! 


	34. oh the angst

- - - yes yes, I'm a bad person for not updating. I've admitted it before, I'll admit it again. whoopdefuck, here's a chapter. Oh Oh Oh, the angst! Really, I was going to rewrite at least ch 34 if not 33 as well, but I was, and am, uninspired and lazy so I just went with it. I think this chapter is really quite lame and trite, but you can be the judge as to if you agree with that or not. - - -

Akira and Tsukushi spent several more long hours talking and reminiscing. Until finally, Tsukushi fixed Akira with a penetrating glare, and demanded,

"All right, out with it! I'm sick of that gleam in your eye! I've seen that before, you sneaky bastard, and I'm having none of it! What are you planning this time?"

"Tsukushi, you wound me deeply!" Akira protested

"Yeah right." Tsukushi snorted. "Come on, spit it out, or I'm going to go home and leave you here by yourself. You really wanna be alone when those two walk back out that door? I don't think so."

"Ouch. You wouldn't really do that, would you?" Akira made puppy-dog eyes, but Tsukushi was unyielding,

"Spit it out!"

"Ok, ok. Fine just don't hurt me!" Akira joked, and set forth his 'brilliant' plan. . .

"That's got to be the stupidest so-called plan I've ever heard!" Tsukushi burst out. "No way in hell would that work, even if I were dumb enough to agree! What on earth are you smoking to think that sort of nonsense would help 'Jiro and I?"

"Hey," Akira protested, "I'm a guy, right? Don't I understand the way a guy's mind works? We're even simpler than women to get! Besides, didn't Kunisawa use something similar on Tsukasa?"

"You don't know Soujiro half as well as you think." Tsukushi glowered. "And what works on a mind as simple as Doumyouji's, isn't going to do squat for Soujiro. Idiot!" She punctuated her words with an irritated punch to Akira's knee.

"Ow! I was just trying to be helpful!"

"Well, keep your dumbass ideas to yourself, from now on." Tsukushi sniffed disparagingly. She was about to elaborate more on the status of his intelligence, when the door she was leaning against cracked open at last. "Oof1" Tsukushi grunted, as she sprawled most ungracefully onto Tsukasa's feet. ". . .Umm . .. . . Hi?" She offered up, peering up at an uncomfortable angle into his glowering face.

"What The hell?" Was his terse reply.

"Hey!" Akira cut in brightly, or at least, as brightly as one could sound after a long and uncomfortably sleepless night lounging on the non-too clean carpet of a second rate hotel. "We were wondering when you guys would finish up in there. What do you think, Makino, have they had enough, or should we send them back for another round?"

Tsukushi looked anxiously up at Tsukasa, then craned her head still farther back to peer past him at Shigeru. She was hoping for a sign, any sort of sign that would tell her exactly what had transpired in that cramped hotel room. Had they talked? Had they. . . ? Neither Tsukasa nor Shigeru's appearance lent much in the way of a clue to her theories. Tsukasa looked angry as usual, also frustrated and tired. But He'd looked rather like that before he'd been shut in that room, most likely. As for her part, Shigeru looked sad as well, but no sadder than she had the last time Tsukushi had seen her. She did, however, manage to muster a wan smile in response to Tsukushi's questioning gaze., that flickered for at least an entire millisecond before sputtering out. Tsukushi could almost swear she could read in Shigeru's eyes the real history of just what had transpired between herself and Doumyouji.

In fact, the meeting, had gone something like this, as the door slammed shut several hours ago on Shigeru's falsely perky interrogation.

----------------

The question hung in the air.

"What's sex with Amon really like" echoing in the space that lay between them. Echoing in their ears like a memory of the seemingly unbreachable rift that lay between them. A rift that one might almost claim that Amon, the very man in question, had helped to widen.

What could Tsukasa say to a question like that? What could he do? He blushed beet red and spluttered, while Shigeru looked on in silence. Still too much the prude to answer such a direct answer, still too embarrassed about the whole situation. In the end, it was Shigeru who broke the silence again, with a resigned shake of her head.

"Forget it. It's best if I don't know after all. No. I really don't want to know. Don't want to know what it is I'm missing. I suppose that would only make it worse, wouldn't it? Hell if I know." She was talking to herself now, as she turned away from Doumyouji and paced the length of the room. "Fuck it. You wanted to talk to me? Fine job you're doing. Talk, Hah! More like you came to mock my misery, is that it? You always did like to pick on those weaker than yourself, huh. Well I never used to think that was me. Guess I'm just dumb like that. Never seeing the truth until it's beating me over the head. Or maybe I just had too much hope. Optimistic Shigeru! I don't think I'd recognize myself now, if the me of last year, or the year before could travel in time to this very minute. I think . . . I think I'd hate who I've become. . . but really, isn't this who I always really was, beneath? Who the fuck knows?" Here she paused her diatribe to shoot a sharp glance at Doumyouji, "I'm bloody sure you don't."

By now, Doumyouji had recovered his poise enough to have assumed a rigidly posture, arms crossed, wary gaze following the shorter girl as she paced restlessly. But still, his only response to her bitter remark was a skeptical "Hmph," hardly noticed by Shigeru as she blithered on.

"I know one thing I learned though. You know what that is?" She didn't even bother to look up to see if Doumyouji assented or not, "Optimism is a lie. Hope is dumb. . . No. . " she corrected herself, "Not Dumb, that's not what I meant to say. It's more like. . . You know Greek mythology? Pandora's box? The box full of evils, sickness, greed, hate. All chock full of nasty stuff, and there at the bottom of it all --hope. Oh sure, they claim the gods put hope there in as relief from all the ills, a small kindness to lighten the suffering. But no. I know better, Hope wasn't an accident, or a kindness. Hope belonged in that fucking box. An evil torment worse than any other. The root of all true suffering. No kindness that, eh?"

Shigeru. . . What? Was this really Okawahara Shigeru? Doumyouji couldn't comprehend it. How had the sparkling and vivacious girl sunk so low? Where had her cheer gone? Even in his own worst moments, had he been this bitter, this cynical? He hoped not.

Doumyouji struggled to recall his purpose in forcing this meeting; Amon's taunting words that had brought him here, "You're not her friend. I am." Right. He was here to prove, that he was her friend, had always been, no matter that they were engaged, no matter how estranged they had become. They were friends. He was sure of it. They had to be. Otherwise, how could there be communication now?

How could there be forgiveness?

"Shigeru." He began, pulling his thoughts together, "I didn't mean. . I never meant to hurt you."

"Of course you didn't!" she shot vehemently back, "You never thought of me at all-- only of yourself!"

"No. . ."

"Oh come on! I tried, I tried so hard to get through to you, but did you ever respond to my pleas? Did you ever make an effort to think about something other than your wants, your needs?"

"Shigeru!" Doumyouji was forced to shout to interrupt her rapid-fire ranting, "Look! I admit it! I'm at fault! I apologize! I'm doing the best I can, ok? You think you're the only one confused, the only one with issues? You know you're not! I can't help the way I feel, any more than you can. I can't help that I don't love you. But that doesn't mean I don't care."

"Sure sure. I know you don't care, 'cause you never even try! At least Amon. . .Amon might be a real bastard, but at least he knows how to try. Or at least to pretend to listen. How hard would it be to say one word or two? Hmm? Not very. That's how I know who my real friends are."

Doumyouji was stunned. He'd no idea that Shigeru, the girl known for her eternal exuberance, could be so hateful, so bitter. Almost as if she'd been taking lessons for Sakurako-- though why that should be a surprise given that the two were best friends, he had no idea.

"This isn't getting us anywhere." Doumyouji sighed, running a hand across his weary eyes.

"Damned right it's not. I told you it was too late, Tsukasa. What do you want from me? What more piece of my heart do you want to tear away? Or did you just want to make sure you got to keep Amon all to yourself. Is that it? Well don't worry yourself on my account. You've got his heart as surely as you've got mine. I would hate you both if only I didn't love you so fucking much."

"But that's just It!" Tsukasa shouted right back, glad to finally have an opening to talk about the subject that had dragged him all across town tonight. "How can you do this to yourself? Don't you realize that no good can come of that? If you fuck Amon, you'll just be hurting yourself more."

"You don't look the worse for it." She laughed bitterly.

"That's different."

"Tell me about it. It's Always been different for you. Someone always loves you. You never have to worry about that."

"What do you want from me?" Now he was just exasperated, "I can't change the way things are. I can't change the mistakes I've made. So what do you want?"

"You know what I want! I want you to love me. Failing that, all I want is for you to stop ruining my life. Go away, just go away, as you've made it so plain you want nothing from me. So go away and leave me alone. Stop interfering. Be the stranger you so want to be."

"You know I can't do that." He grated, "We're engaged. And more than that, you're my friend. I won't let you hurt yourself more."

"As if you had a choice in the matter. . . .Friends! Hah! We've never been friends."

"At the rate we're going. . . " Doumyouji trailed off, "What would you have me do then? Go away, Send Amon back here? Do you really want him that badly, 'cause even I don't know if I do."

"Of course you want him." Shigeru laughed again, a sound like despair, "It's in your eye; you can't stay away from him any more than I can stay away from the both of you. It's like an addiction. Like some contagious disease.. . . Only, I'm the only one left out in the cold. . . . You ask, what do I want from you, Doumyouji Tsukasa? It's simple. I don't want to be left alone out in the cold. That's it. That's all." And now she was crying again. For there was no way to give her what she wanted, not in this lifetime.

That's the way it is, you know. Sometimes, you just can't have what you want. And even if you could have it. what good would it do? Sometimes, the things we most want, are the things that are exactly opposite from what we need; the things that will hurt us the most.

What Shigeru wanted was an In, in one of the more fucked-up relationships she knew. She wanted to be a part of the Doumyouji passion; wanted to feel the flame of his love; or failing that, to be singed by Amon's cruel kindnesses. But that desire was one from which no good could come. Even she knew it.

So what did this interlude with Tsukasa accomplish? Some yelling, some tears and vitriol flowing. It changed nothing. Tsukasa and Amon were their own closed system with their own (serious) unresolved issues, their own conflicts, misunderstandings, and misdirected passions. Shigeru could never be a part of it, and she was wrong to want to. Even she knew this.

But what she had now was closure, catharsis. Got to inflict upon Tsukasa some measure of guilt for the hell he'd put her through. Bitter, yes. Harsh, yes. But catharsis, nonetheless. Necessary and good. Now that the words were in the open, the pain spoken of, the accusations leveled, and the apologies spoken; now, and only now, could the lines of communication be reopened. It might not happen immediately. Or even soon. But eventually, the meaning of what each had said would seep into the other. An understanding could be reached.

It would never be love. That just wasn't in the cards. But they'd known that already. What was important was that they'd both acknowledged this, spoken of it, albeit briefly and shallowly. Time would bring the rest.

But for now. . .

Shigeru stood forlornly in one corner of the room, one arm supporting the elbow of the other supporting her bowed forehead. Tears leaked slowly from her eyes, as Tsukasa watched, helpless, from across the room. What was he supposed to do now? Should he say something? Should he offer her a hug? -- that might work with Tsukushi, but was it appropriate here? He didn't know; wished he had someone to ask advice from; was unsure if Akira was around, or even if it would be right to ask his help?

Doumyouji dithered for a while, while Shigeru remained lost in her own private sorrow. At last he awkwardly moved closer, offering the girl a drink of water, stiffly leading her to a seat, before taking up an oratory stance once more.

Abashedly, he cleared his throat, aware, at last of hoe tired he was, how unresolved, and unresolveable, the situation was. What had they done to deserve such a soap opera of a life? Who knew. What did it matter? What was, was. All they could do was live with it. And so he said, quietly now; telling Shigeru of his time in America; of his loneliness and isolation; his estrangement from his friends, his sense of insurmountable alienation. He tried to emphasize what he thought were the similarities between his situation and Shigeru's, trying to be more honest and open about his more nuanced feelings than even he thought he could ever possibly be. He too had felt unloved; felt that if the one he loved refused to love him back then life wasn't worth living. He too, had thought that no one would ever love him again; and that he'd never be able to move on. But he knew now that that was wrong. This. . .Thing he'd done with Amon might not be love, might even be one of the hugest mistakes of his life, but at least it meant that he had a life-- that things could change-- emotions were not immutable. Even more, he'd at last done the thing he'd once thought impossible; he'd made amends with Tsukushi. Had found a way to be friends with her-- friends and nothing more. It was possible.

True, His and Shigeru's situation was more complex, what with the engagement, and their families' business arrangements and all. But that didn't mean that all was hopeless. Life would work itself out. Somehow. And he would do his best not to hurt her anymore. Not to ignore her, not to run away from confrontation. And someday, everything would be ok. That he promised. She would find someone more suited to her than he. Someone available, willing to cope with the fact that she was engaged or married to Doumyouji. Or somehow, they'd break the engagement again. All things were possible.

And indeed, though it hurt his ego to say, he told her that he wasn't worthy of her affection anyway, that she deserved so much more. . .

He talked for a long long time, waxing to heights of eloquence he'd never even suspected that he could possibly possess. And through it all, Shigeru listened with downcast eyes. Seemingly oblivious to his words, but in reality, drinking it all in, trying to memorize every word. It was something to cling to, at least. Something to provide focus.

And when at last Tsukasa wound down, still unsure of his words effects, Shigeru looked him in the eye, as calmly as she could and said,

"I think I'd like to go home now."

And that was it, no more hysterics. No more crying or screaming. A bit of a let down really. But probably for the best. It was a lot to absorb after all. Something to sleep on.

Tsukasa nodded. Opened the door, spilling Tsukushi onto the floor at his feet. And that was that. Another day done. more questions, more answers.

Life, in a nutshell. Shit happens, and then you talk about it. Action; a matter of personal choice -- best left for another day.

TBC


	35. a new plan

-- I'm afraid that I'm a bad author and have lost track of what day it is in the fic. So I'm making an arbitrary decision on that, for what I suspect is not the first time, much less the last. And before you go on about the slow updates. Don't start. Just don't. I've had a spectacularly shitty month, no brainpower or time to waste on noncritical crap like fanfic. That is all---

Once again, time passed. Time enough for our respective players in this high school drama (or is it, in reality, nothing but a farce?) to go home, get some sleep, to rest and recover from the night's activities. (Though Akira, for one, could think of some other nocturnal activities he'd much rather have been doing). Did these foolish kids actually put this time to its intended use and get some sleep? Who knows? One can only hope so. Anyway, for the sake of argument, let's pretend that everyone managed to get home before the sun had fully risen above the earth, and that they all went to bed for a few hours without too much sleepless tossing and turning.

Eventually, of course, their waking day had to begin anew.

And so it did.

Tsukushi was probably the first to awaken, sometime around noon. Fortunately, it was a Sunday, and even more fortunately, a Sunday on which she didn't have to work. Tsukushi blinked reluctantly awake, panicking for a moment at the idea she might have missed work or school, before her mental facilities kicked in, reminding her of the reality. Unfortunately, the brief moment of panic left her wide awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to return to sleep as unneeded adrenaline continued to course through her veins.

"Ugh." She grunted, as she pushed herself up, and went rummaging through her cramped kitchen in search of calories. "What a night."

"Hey sis!" Susumu barged in breathlessly, "Where were you all night? Were you out with Nishikado last night? Did you two finally finish making up?" Proof once more that even small children could leer suggestively.

"Susumu!" One sharp shout, and Susumu backed down before his sister's flashing eyes.

"Guess not, huh?" muttered beneath his breath only after Tsukushi was safely out of hearing range.

"Argh!" Tsukushi grimaced in frustration. She knew it was only because they cared, but why oh why did Everyone have to go around sticking their noses into her private business? Nor did it help matters any, that she was beginning to think that she might actually need some advice, or at the very least, some coaching in how to get over her hangups and forgive Soujiro as much as she truly wanted to. But who to turn to? Not Rui; she had no desire to torture him like that. Not Tsukasa; his approach was sure to be too simpleminded. Not Akira; he was too biased anyway. Not Shigeru, nor Sakurako. "Shit." That really left only one person in her circle who might really know how to be any help.

Amon.

And oh boy, did she dread seeking him out for that. But then again, why the hell not? He couldn't make things any worse in her mind, right? Yeah. Right.

Ok then. Decision made, Tsukushi was not one to waffle around. Rapidly, she put her breakfast? Lunch? Whatever. Together and ate. Minutes later, she was out the door and on the street, walking rapidly in some random direction before she even realized she no longer quite remembered where it was the object of her current quest lived. "Fuck!" Should she call him? Or should she call Tsukasa, and ask him for directions. No No No, that idea still made her just a bit queasy, so Tsukushi finally gave up and took out her phone.

A few rings before the pickup, a long pause, before the sleepily grunted "Wha?"

Well, at least it sounded like the right number, "Umm . . . Hi. Amon? This is Makino. . . Ahh. . . I hope I didn't wake you, but I was wondering if I could ask a favor?"

A mumbled reply

"What?!" almost a shriek, "What do you mean, what do I have to trade in return?"

Amon was finally starting to awaken now, "Can't get something for nothing out of life. You know that. What you got to trade? Information for information. You tell me what I missed last night, and I'll do your little favor, whatever it is."

"Oh. . . I guess that's ok then." Of course, Tsukushi's paranoid imagination had been thinking some other kind of trade entirely.

"Great." Amon yawned sleepily, "Also, you have to bring coffee. I'll meet you, in say, 30 minutes, down in that park you know, by the river. Yeah. 30 minutes." Just enough time for a few more minutes of sleep.

----

Half an hour later, Tsukushi was waiting impatiently, coffee in hand, at the designated location.

"Yo" Amon strolled up, eyes still puffy with sleep. "Coffee. Need. Now." Wordlessly, Tsukushi handed him the steaming cup, and he proceeded to chug down the contents, despite its scalding temperature. "Ok then." He began, livening up visibly as the hot liquid had its effect. "Talk. First, fill me in on what I missed. Then we deal with your problems." Oh yes, he knew where his own priorities lay.

Quickly, Tsukushi outlined what little there was to tell. Not much. After all, she hadn't been present in the room for Tsukasa and Shigeru's little talk. If Amon was disappointed by the paucity of her data, he failed to show it, preferring to keep his thoughts concealed behind an aloof air of amused tolerance. His expressions told a different story entirely, as Tsukushi launched into her own personal recitation of self-pity and recrimination. She babbled on about jealousy and guilt and longing, betrayal and forgiveness. She wasn't exactly very coherent, and if Amon hadn't already known or guessed the details, he'd've been mightily confused by it all. As it was, somewhere in what would have been the middle of her tirade, he launched a long suffering sigh, and cut her off in mid-sentence.

"My god woman. Get over it already!" He exclaimed, the very antithesis of sympathetic understanding. "Look, your problem is simple. Either dump him or don't."

"But. . . What you said last night."

"Oh, forget that shit." Amon snorted disgustedly. "That's more for his benefit than yours, right. You did understand that?" At Tsukushi's blank look, he sighed again. "Look. What we said last night-- you know, to make him jealous-- the purpose of that is not to make you feel better about him, but for the idiot richboy to realize how much (or how little) he needs you. From what you say, he really does love you. Now, you know what I think of that nonsense." (A disparaging sneer that was no more believable than it had been the first time he'd said such a thing to her). "So, by fooling around with someone else -- or hold on, don't get mad-- by appearing to fool around with someone else, makes him think of how little you need him, and how much his life sucks without you. Right?"

"I suppose." Tsukushi thought back to how Soujiro hadn't been able to keep away from her, no matter how he'd tried. No matter how much his own self-loathing had screamed at him to stay away.

"Right, so then, If he's not a total idiot." His tone suggested that this was not, in truth, the most likely case, "He'll do his best to show you just how devoted he is and why you shouldn't leave him. Etc etc. So that's all to your benefit." He paused a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, "But all that's only relevant if you really want to keep him. Do you?"

The question was asked so abruptly that Tsukushi could only stare blankly.

"It's a simple question, girl, so stop waffling." Amon growled impatiently, "Do you want him or not? If you do, you need to get over your fucking hangups! If you don't, you need to ditch him and ditch the guilt. If you're not happy with the boy, he sure as hell ain't going to be happy with you. So dumping him's all for the best if you don't want him. But make up your bleeding mind!"

"I'm not dumping him!" Tsukushi forced out finally, glaring fiercely at Amon, as if daring him to contradict her.

"If you say so." Amon shrugged, pretending he didn't think she was making a mistake, "So, then, what's your problem? Does he disgust you? Does his touch make you feel slimy? Do his conversational skillz suck?" He already knew the answers to these, even before Tsukushi's slow headshake. "Of course not. You're In Love with the idiot." He sneered, as if he himself had never been involved in a dysfunctional relationship, or if he knew from experience what it felt like to be involved in something that caused his emotions to war against his better judgement. Which, of course, he did." So again, what's the problem?"

"I told you already!" Tsukushi's cheeks were flaming.

"So tell me again." Amon demanded, tauntingly.

"I can't. . ." Tsukushi shook her head, started again. "Every time, he touches me. . . All I can think of is. . ."

"Is that birdbrained slut friends of yours."

"Yuki isn't a slut!" her eyes flashed fury.

"Whatthefuckever" He let it drop "So you're jealous. Really. Jealous that she got to fuck him before you could." Only Amon could say such a thing so callously and get away with it. Only he could force her to look this particular truth straight in the eye. No one else would have dared to speak so bluntly. And no one else would have laughed at the look of incredulous fury that suffused her features at his deadpanned pronouncement. "Bingo. Yeah yeah, don't try to deny it. Your face says it all. That simplifies things."

"What. . ." Tsukushi stammered, "You. . . How?"

"Oh calm down. You're the one who asked me for help. Now you're getting it. Enough with the outraged innocent act. Don't you think you're getting a bit old for it, after all? Anyway. So you're denying him and yourself the physical fulfillment you crave-- that is to say, fucking," He explicitly used the words, just for the amusement of seeing her flinch. "Because you're jealous of a bimbo and her one night stand. You do realize just how lame, how utterly fucking stupid that sounds, yes?

"Of course you are," he answered his own question, "Otherwise you wouldn't be here. So like, if you were a normal person, or an adult, people would tell you to get some relationship counseling. But you're not. And that shit just sounds lame anyway. No, you just need some alcohol. See, you just need to get past your stupid hangups just once. Once you do that, the next times become easier and easier. But the longer you wait, the more entrenched your bitterness and fear are going to be. I mean, duh. You know that as well as I do. So; simple solution. Like I said, get drunk enough to not give a shit about that worthless bimbo and what she did with your boy-- I mean hell, how many other worthless bimbos has he fucked, and you haven't been bothered by them? Then remind yourself that you're the only one special enough to not have to fear displacement in his heart by her or anyone else, and jump him. Easy!"

"You make it sound so simple." Tsukushi looked away, a shade of bitterness coloring her voice.

"Only 'cause it is! Look in my eyes, Tsukushi. Would I Lie to you?"

She shook her head no.

"Of course I wouldn't. And you trust me, right?"

She nodded yes.

"And yet, you know what kind of a cheating, lying, manipulative bastard I am." A statement, not a question, "So it should be easy to get over your issues with the dumb little rich boy! You just have to be willing to try. And I know you. You're the one who fights even when you've no chance of success. So why aren't you fighting now?" A barb to spur her into action.

"You're right." A slow admission.

"Of course I am, I'm always right." Just a little uncalled-for boasting there, "So, when's the party?"

"Huh? What?"

"Duh, the party when we get your cute little ass drunk and you jump Nishikado."

"Err. . ."

"Great! Thursday it is! I sure hope that boy appreciates what you do for him. . . . Brat so doesn't deserve you." The last part muttered almost inaudibly under his breath.

"Umm. . ."

"Come on, We'll drag all your friends. . ." he began to list names, unconsciously placing heavy emphasis on Doumyouji and Shigeru, "They'll back you up. You know you need this. I'll even organize it."

Tsukushi waffled a while longer before allowing herself to be persuaded. Amon was right of course. She knew that. Maybe his interpretation wasn't the only one. Maybe his advice was not the most effective. After all, everyone knows that sex can't solve everything. (and most of the time, it can't even solve anything besides sheer horniness). But, as a way to break down the walls they'd allowed to form between them, it would suffice. Given who Tsukushi was, and who Soujiro was, and what this would mean to the two of them, perhaps it might be the only thing that would suffice. Who knew? Not Tsukushi, though at this point she was almost willing to give it a shot. Not Soujiro, who, if he'd known the plan would have undoubtedly run away in fear, lest he hurt Tsukushi more or drive her away for good, and certainly not Amon, the orchestrator of the coming event, the confidant and self-appointed-miracle-worker, who had just pulled his whole philosophical diatribe straight out of his ass.

But hell, the only way to prove his hypothesis was by experimentation. And Tsukushi had just volunteered as the experimental subject. One way or the other, something would be learned in four days.

Thursday.

A day that could not arrive too fast for some, too slow for others.

TBC

---Next time: the mush and slush and fluff and stuff that I know you're pining for. Yeah yeah, keep your pants on, it's a coming.---


	36. enough with the scheming already

---Righto. First off, please note, that I do not share Amon's particular opinions voiced in the last chapter. We all know (or should know) that using sex to solve relationship problems is a terrible idea. I mean, shit! That usually makes problems worse. But this is fiction, not reality, and besides, as advice from Amon, why not? I don't think anyone expects philosophical nuance there. And yeah, I'd've got this out sooner, were it not for the election, and my wrecked car, and my prethesis meeting, and did I mention the election holy fuck I didn't sleep for two nights we're so screwed goddamned fucking stupid shitheads in the middle of the country. My advisor is convinced of massive voting fraud and for once I'm tempted to believe in her paranoia-- how could anybody really truly be stupid enough to vote for bush? But I'm getting angry enough to cry again now, so instead, on with the story. . .

Amon was nothing if not good at organizing parties. He was, after all, a bartender; so in a way, it all kind of came with the territory. Thus, it was hardly any trouble for him to start making the necessary calls to Tsukushi's friends to get the ball rolling on the event. The first call he made, was, of course, to Shigeru.

"Hello?" A weary-sounding voice on her end.

"Still losing sleep over the brat, eh?" Amon's pseudo-cynical greeting.

"Fuck you! You stood me up!" cast back with a bitterness that would have done Sakurako proud.

"Nah. . . Don't look at it like that! I gave you two some quality time together."

"Quality time, my ass."

"Your ass got some quality time? How nice for you. I do hope it's not too sore now." The leer in the taunt almost audible.

"You. . You. . Argh!"

"Heh. So high strung. Look, I how about I make it up to you? There's this party I'm throwing for Tsukushi on Thursday. If you come, I promise, you can beat me up for ditching you. How's that?"

"I don't think that's going far enough." She muttered under her breath, before raising her voice to ask a question of her own, " Why are you throwing a party for Tsukushi? What sort of shit are you planning now?"

"Oh, it's nothing bad!" Amon had never sounded less convincing, "She agreed. I'm just trying to help her with her relationship problems."

At this, Shigeru couldn't help herself anymore. She let out a huge gale of gut-busting laughter, almost choking on her hilarity as she attempted to envisage Amon as being capable of truly helping anyone, given the shit he'd helped to put her through.

"Oh Shut up!" he snorted grumpily as her laughter trailed off into helpless hiccupping. "It's not that funny. I don't fuck up anymore than the rest of you goddamned fools. So, are you coming?"

"Ah." Shigeru gasped, as she struggled to control her giggles, "I don't think that's a great idea. Is Doumyouji going to be there?"

"He bloody well better be."

"Then I'm not." Said with excessive primness, and a stubborn set of her jaw.

"Goddamnit, Shigeru. I thought that you at least, would stop acting like a child at some point. I thought last night might do something for that. Fucking hell, girl, if you don't face the things that bother you, you're never going to fucking get over him." Amon could change moods just as rapidly as Shigeru, herself.

"Oh, fuck you. What do you know about it?"

"Damnit, woman, I didn't call you to argue with you. Are you coming or not?"

"Fine, but on one condition." Doumyouji probably wouldn't show up, anyway.

"Umm. . . and what might that be?" Amon asked more than a little warily.

"Oh, don't sound so paranoid! Its just that, if there's going to be a party, and I have to go -- I want it to be at my place!"

"Okaay. .." Amon had no problem with that. "But what about your parents?"

"Eh. They're away for the week."

"Ah." So she was probably feeling lonely in that big empty apartment. Rich kids were all the same. That at least explained why she'd given in so quickly. They chatted for a little while longer, and by the end of the conversation, Shigeru had begin to gain real enthusiasm for the idea of a party. Her enthusiastic planning instincts had taken over, and already she had started mulling over possible themes and costuming and food that she'd order. . . Amon was more than happy to leave those particular details, while he took care of stocking the bar, and harassing the rest of the guests.

One other call, in particular, he enjoyed making. . . This one, a house call, and not a phone call. Sneaking up upon the Doumyouji mansion -- really, you'd think that a family as rich as this one, would have better estate security. But apparently not. Oh well. Gliding silently, and stealthily down echoing halls, led as if by instinct to Doumyouji's office, pouncing with all the grace of a striking tiger-- only to be brought up short by Doumyouji's automatic block and counterattack.

"What the fuck?!" Doumyouji's characteristic exclamation. "What are you doing here. Asshole?! How did you get in?! What the hell do you think you're trying to pull with that stunt last night?" Barking out questions even as he and Amon continued to wrestle.

"Still a little tense, eh?" Amon laughed. Amazing really, how Tsukasa was always spoiling for a fight. Almost as amazing as how easy it was to convert that violence into another sort of passion.

"Fucker! After that shit you pulled with Shigeru!" After the insults and jabs Amon had leveled at Tsukasa as concerned that girl. Did the bastard think he was just going to sit here and take it? Did he think he could manipulate Tsukasa so? Did he think that Tsukasa would jump back into his bed, for a second go round, after all this? Is that what this was about?

Well of course it was. . . And after the fighting, after the acrimony, the barbs, and . . . yes. . the jealousy of the other's easy friendships with the women in Tsukasa's life, after the bruising catharsis, then came, as Amon had known it would, the need, the desire, for another outlet for the fire filling his soul. The outlet that only Amon knew how to provide.

A house call indeed. Another step toward cementing this 'relationship.' Even as Tsukasa fought against it, he could not deny the fierce pull Amon exerted on him, any more than Amon could deny his own craving.

But be that as it may, in a day or two, Amon's dalliance with Tsukasa was, in the end, nothing but a footnote in the greater scheme of things. Just one more complication in lives already overly complexified. Just like that of Tsukushi. . .

Amon hadn't thought it a good idea for himself to be contacting the other members of the F4 given. . .well, given all that had ever gone before. So, he had Tsukasa deal. A duty he performed, albeit with ill-grace. . . Until, at last, the invites had been tendered, the catering ordered, the decorations hung-- for Shigeru refused to host a party-even one for such a small group-- without all the trimmings. What else were parties for, after all?

Finally. . .Thursday. Morning crept by; classes for some, sleep for others, and for a few-- a combination of the two. In school, Tsukushi and Soujiro an awkward couple, trying still to pretend there was no awkwardness between them-- a lie that neither believed. At lunch, for example, Tsukushi was sitting down already, when Soujiro slid into place beside her, slipping his arm around her shoulders in an old habitual move; except that now, as she had ever since they'd gotten back together, Tsukushi stiffened, froze, could only slowly will her muscles to relax and accept his touch without flinching. "Don't think it, don't think it." She repeated her mantra, eyes held desperately open as she willed away the images that seemed forever graven on her mind. "No. He never touched Yuki like this." Repeated so intently that it almost spilled out aloud. Yeah, Tsukushi knew she had problems. And she was sick of them. Why else would she have gone to Amon, of all people, for advice? She loved Soujiro, and knew he loved her; but that just wasn't good enough. It hadn't been enough to make things work with Tsukasa either. But this time, this time, she didn't think she could stand to fail again.

For his part, Soujiro noticed the sudden tenseness in Tsukushi's shoulders, the gradual lessening of tension. . . And the surge of guilt it all provoked in him. As well as the surge of doubt. . . was it really a good idea to be here with Tsukushi, like this? She'd said she'd wanted him back. . .but. . . God, he didn't know how much more of this he could take. Something had to give. He wanted her, yes. Such a foolish thing, to want a girl who had neither looks, nor grace, nor style. . . But he did, for her qualities were worth so much more than all of that. Yet, at the same time, he still thought that she deserved better, that he, with all his failings, was not the man to give her what she needed. . . And then, he'd remind himself, that she'd said she'd always be there for him, and who was he to question her decision, and maybe this all was simply his fear of commitment acting up. Because, then, He'd see her laughing and joking with Rui, or yelling at Tsukasa, and the hot flare of jealousy that seared through him at that moment was almost electrifying in its painful intensity. But who was he to interfere, after all he'd done? What could he say; she wasn't the unfaithful one, and all that was left for him was to turn away. Fists clenched against the desire, the need, to show her how much more she meant to him than she could ever mean to his friends, (even if even that wasn't as true as he could wish it to be). For he knew, that all such attempts would lead back to this. This moment here and now, his arms, her rigid spine. Awkward, tense and uncomfortable. Both wishing it wasn't so. .

So you can imagine just how much they needed help. Any sort of help. The sort of "help" only their friends could provide- to wit; a convivial atmosphere rife with innuendo, tension, well-intended "advice," and a shitload of booze. . .

A party.

Tsukushi, was, of course, twitchy as all hell. She rushed to Shigeru's house, straight after work, that evening, hoping to beat Soujiro there, that she might get a much needed pep talk from Shigeru, Sakurako, Amon. . . anyone! Well, anyone, that is but Tsukasa, or Rui -- that would probably just be weird, (though how anything could be weirder than the day she dragged Rui to the gynecolegist, even Tsukusho wasn't sure.)

Unfortunately, the fates were against her, and Tsukushi found herself only the second guest to arrive. . . right behind the uncharacteristically prompt Soujiro. However, precious moments of sanity were gained when Shigeru, in a show of exuberance close to her "normal" self jumped them, wielding brightly colored . . . leis?

"Oh god, no" Soujiro sighed, hiding his face in his hands, ". . .don't tell me."

"Yup!" Shigeru chirped, her spirits obviously brightened by the few days spent in planning, "Hawaiian theme! Aloha! Now go get dressed. Boy's room that side, and Tsukushi, you come with me."

Well, ok, a few moments reprieve then, though maybe not so much of the sanity.

"You've got to be kidding me." Tsukushi put her hands on her hips in stark refusal. With Shigeru, you had to expect costuming, but this?

"Oh come on!" Shigeru pled, hands clasped together pleadingly. "We'll all be dressed the same."

"What about the guys?"

"Well, ok, maybe not them. . . But You! And me! And Sakurako. . . And umm. . .Is Akira bringing anyone? No? Oh well. Just the three of us then!"

"But, but, but. . . A coconut bra!" Tsukushi almost shrieked in outrage.

"Guaranteed not to scratch-- see, It's lined! And I even got your size. Aren't the grass skirts to die for?"

"Yeah, someone's going to die, that's for sure." Tsukushi grimaced.

"Oh come on." Shigeru pouted, looking downcast, that Tsukushi wasn't showing the hoped for enthusiasm. "Please?" She was, after all, trying so hard to deal, to get on with her life despite what seemed like a constant stream of disappointments.

"Yeah, Tsukushi, come on." Sakurako had arrived, breezing into the room and grabbing Shigeru's costuming off a chair. "Soujiro will absolutely love how much leg these things show. . . see?" And she proceeded to model for them. Not that she was all that psyched, but hey, it was for a friend, after all. A measure of just how much restraint she was showing, was her determination to keep biting her tongue every time the urge to bitch about just how inauthentic this particular set of costuming truly was, surged up in her.

With much embarrassment, Tsukushi finally got into her costuming, along with the other two girls. . . It didn't take very long, but she could see Shigeru was holding something back. . . a bad case of the giggles perhaps?

"Shigeru. What is it?"

"You'll see." A mischievous glint in her eye.

Still scratching their heads, Sakurako and Tsukushi followed her back out of their changing room, to where Soujiro was waiting, looking more than a little put out. And no wonder. Shigeru and Sakurako immediately started giggling, while Tsukushi's cheeks slowly began to flush. . .

"A loincloth!" Sakurako managed to gasp between laughs.

"It was the closest thing I could find. . ." Shigeru giggled.

"I thought, when you told me it was a Hawaiian party, that the boys were gonna be wearing Hawaiian shirts?"

"Oh no!" Shigeru pretended to look horrified at the very suggestion, "That wouldn't be fair! Anyway, let's drink!"

"At least it's warm in here," Soujiro grumbled, starting to follow after the two lively girls. He paused, however, when he realized Tsukushi hadn't moved. "Hey, Tsukushi . . you coming? . . ."

She was frozen in place, just staring. It'd been a while since she'd seen him so scantily clad, and for some reason, tonight it was just hitting her really hard, just how hot he really was. Sure, she'd always known: the F4 were totally built, all of them, and she'd seen them all in states of near undress before, and of course Soujiro Was her boyfriend, but damn! It had been a while. And of course, what she was supposed to attempt tonight had the physical all on her mind. . but damn!

"Uhh. . Earth to Tsukushi? Are you all right?" He waved a hand in front of her face.

"Ye. . Yeah. I'm fine." Tsukushi stammered, more than a little flustered, "Just. . that. . . ThatLoinClothReallySuitsYou!"

"Well of course it does," He chose to laugh it off, "Red's my color! Come on, let's go see what else Shigeru's got in store for us." Laughing, he put his arm around Tsukushi's shoulder, mentally debating how badly Tsukushi would react were he to grope her coconut in front of the rest of their friends-- would the amusement value be worth the pain she'd inflict on him? Eh. He'd save it for later. At least she wasn't pulling away from him right now.

Slowly, the rest of their friends trickled in, and submitted to the indignity that was Shigeru's idea of a party.

"But hey, you can't go wrong with tropical drinks!" Akira exclaimed, as he plonked one of Amon's killer scorpion bowls down in front of Rui. "Here, drink with me."

"That thing?" Rui quirked a skeptical eyebrow. "No thanks."

"Hey, don't be such a spoilsport, man." Akira prodded, "I mean, just because you don't approve, doesn't mean you have to gloom all night." He glanced in Tsukushi's direction, lowering his voice conspiratorially as he continued, "You agreed to the plan. It's for their own good, damnit!" As if there wasn't enough scheming going on around here already

Rui sighed, "I didn't agree to your so-called plan. I merely agreed that I wanted Tsukushi to be happy."

"Same thing!"

"It's not, and you know it."

"You're still not over her." Wisely, Rui chose not to answer. "Ok, fine, I can see that. And you're still angry at Soujiro. You know how to hold a grudge almost as well as Tsukasa, don't you? Don't answer that. But. Shit, man, this is life. You can't always get what you want. That's the way it is. Look at Shigeru. You think you have it bad? Then fuck you for a self-centered bastard. That girl has problems, and look at her. She faced up to them. Finally. And accepted that she couldn't have her way. Is she happy about it? Fuck no! Is she moping around avoiding everyone still? No! Look at her." Shigeru was, at that moment, attempting to hold conversation with Tsukasa. It looked awkward, strained, but at least she was trying to accept things, trying to get back to a point where they could at least be comfortable as friends. And then, Amon sauntered up, fresh drinks in hand, to whisper in Shigeru's ear; making her flush and laugh, before turning hungrily, almost predatorily towards Tsukasa. . .

"Ohh!" Akira's eyes widened, and he poked Rui in the ribs. "This is gonna be good! You haveta watch!"

"Eh." Rui shrugged, but turned his attention away from the scene across the room, where Tsukushi and Soujiro were attempting conversation with Sakurako's dull fiancé. (A difficult task at best, made more so by the constant distraction of Sakurako's wandering hands.) Back over in Shigeru's corner, Amon handed the clutch of drinks off to Shigeru, and feinted towards Doumyouji. For his part, Tsukasa glowered, though it might be claimed that the angry exterior was a mere façade for the sudden alarm inside. He couldn't back away, for that would be a sign of weakness, but he still didn't want to admit his thing with Amon was anything more than a momentary lapse, and that, all evidence to the contrary, it was ever going to happen again. Which is why, Tsukasa was seriously startled when Amon didn't attack as expected, and instead leaned back, arms folded across his chest, laughing.

"What?" Tsukasa felt his hackles rising defensively.

"Nothing," Amon deadpanned, "I'll leave that up to you to decide."

"The hell? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Anything you want it to." Amon turned back to Shigeru, to claim his drink, and whisper once more in her ear, "See, I told you. Gotta keep him off balance. Keep him guessing. Isn't he cute when he splutters like that?" Noticing Rui and Akira watching, Amon sent them a lascivious wink. Leaving them to only guess what was really being said in that corner.

"Damn, I thought they were going to kiss, or fight. Or maybe both." Akira groused. "That wasn't exciting at all."

"You have no appreciation for subtlety." Rui murmured, closing his eyes and leaning back into the couch. "I think I will have that drink after all."

"What subtlety?" Akira passed Rui the bowl, "Guy's got all the subtlety of a pile-driver."

"Sure he does," Rui shrugged and slugged back the fruity concoction. "Compared to Tsukasa at least. "

"Well, I guess at least Tsukasa's finally met his match, then." Akira, in the spirit of solidarity finished his round as well. "Always thought it Tsukushi was the one who could keep him in line. But I guess, you can only fight fire with fire for so long." He grimaced, and glanced around the room once more, as if checking to make sure no one was listening, "Still, I can't say as how I really understand it at all. I mean. . . Kunisawa???"

Rui cracked open one eye to gaze, in world-weary knowingness at Akira, "He fights dirty."

"Well sure, but."

"You fight fire, with dirt."

"Huh?"

"You know as well as I, how tiring it is to deal with Tsukasa head on. You do what he wants, you go around him, or you opt out. You can't fight him It's too tiring. It wore Tsukushi out. It would wear anyone out. But Amon, he knows what it's like to Be Tsukasa. He knows all the cracks, all the tricks. And like Tsukasa, he plays to win."

"No good can come of it." Akira shook his head plaintively, "I mean, it's good that Tsukasa's not a virgin. But Kunisawa? Is it a fling? Are they dating? Are they just fucking? And what about Shigeru?"

"I don't think they even know." Rui laughed. "But I'm not getting involved. And neither should you. They'll figure it out eventually."

"Or kill each other."

"Indeed."

"Eh." Akira threw up his hands in mock despair, "Tsukasa's mother will kill them if she ever gets wind of this."

"Most assuredly. If the shock doesn't kill the bitch first," Rui agreed calmly, "Is it time?"

"Oh shit!" Akira glanced around the room again, Tsukushi had abandoned Soujiro, leaving him at the mercy of Sakurako and her beau, in order to get herself a wee bit more liquored up. "Yeah, looks like it's about time."

"Oh good." Rui lifted a languid arm from the couch to beckon Tsukasa over.

"This is the only part you've been looking forward, isn't it?" Akira taunted. An accusation that Rui chose not to answer.

"This is stupid." Tsukasa's greeting as he strode over, his discomfort over Amon's appearance showing plainly through. Amon followed closely behind, still looking secretly pleased, as if over some private joke.

"Yeah, so?" Akira shrugged, "It'll be fun. Anyway, you've all heard Soujiro's bitching. Tsukushi's so goddamned tense, she doesn't even like it when he kisses her anymore. When she lets him. Which isn't often."

"Can you blame her?" Tsukasa growled.

"I'm not blaming anyone. I'm just saying." Akira waved his hands in surrender.

"So," Amon interrupted, breaking in on their dialogue, the only one of the four not in on Akira's plan. "You are aware, aren't you, Why that is? How would you like to have images of your lover fucking someone else constantly on your mind?"

"Ah. . ." Akira hastened to intervene, "Actually, I think I can speak for All of us when I say, 'been there done that.' And yeah, Kunisawa, actually those two, and Tsukushi? Yeah. . . They know. But that's all in the past now, right guys?"

"Hmm. . ." Rui looked thoughtful, while Tsukasa merely looked furiously glum.

"But. . ." Akira drawled, explaining things for Amon's benefit. If he was here, he may as well hear. ". . .Soujiro. He doesn't know."

"He fucking well should." Tsukasa, speaking with unsurprising vehemence.

"He doesn't appreciate what he's got." Rui, speaking with bitter experience.

"No one does, until they see it being taken away." Amon nodded in agreement. "So what? You're going to try to steal her back? You know that won't work, right?"

"Duh." Akira snorted. "But a lesson simulated can still be a lesson learned."

"And here's today's TA, now." Rui nodded as Tsukushi meandered over, looking at the group with trepidation.

"How's the blood alcohol level?" Amon asked, thinking of schemes within schemes, the great metaness of it all, when really a decent conversation might have served. But this way was probably more fun, anyway. Well, at least for some.

"Getting there." Tsukushi murmured, looking down at the floor. "Is it time?"

"Yup." Akira grinned. "Places, everyone!"

"Hmm. . . " Amon retreated to observe, as Tsukushi made a bee-line for the bar. Akira wandered, seemingly aimlessly for the food table, while Tsukasa went back to pretending conversation with Shigeru, but, the both of them, remaining in close earshot of their favorite weed, and all them, making sure to be in Soujiro's clear line of sight.

"Silly teenagers." Amon sighed, noticing the flaw in their plan, and moving into position of his own.

Meanwhile, Rui went up to Tsukushi. A moment of conversation seemed to ensue. Rui looked sad, almost pleading, his hands reaching out to cover hers at the bar. The words, very clearly enunciated by the usually quiet boy, "Please, you mean so much to me, just let me show you. He doesn't deserve you. He never has. Why can't it be me?" Well, even if that hadn't caught Soujiro's attention, Rui's next move most certainly did. Amon had been expecting it, from the boys' conversation, though he had to admit , he hadn't been expecting the "performance" to echo Rui's reality so well. (From what little Amon knew, he could guess that Rui was the only one not acting here.). Of course, Rui bent down to kiss Tsukushi. The only surprise being that, though she tensed, she didn't push him away.

"Hmm." Amon hummed to himself. Tsukushi didn't look happy, but she was going along with this. . And oh, hmm, most definitely, Hanazawa was taking maximum advantage of the situation. "Probably his last chance." Amon murmured quietly, feeling a sudden melancholy surge of sympathy for the reserved boy. Oh! And now was the time for his own part. Amon acted swiftly to intercept Soujiro in his impulsive rush across the room. "Now, now, don't be so hasty; they're not done yet." Expertly, he twisted Soujiro's arms painfully behind his back. "Oh, and keep your mouth shut, or I'll break your arm."

"The fuck?" Soujiro gasped, as he tried to free himself, "Asshole! Let me go!"

"Not yet." Amon grinned, and gave Soujiro's arm a nasty twist. "Now watch."

As if he could take his eyes off the sight if he tried. Rui. . . Rui was still kissing Tsukushi. And not those sweet chaste kisses the usually preferred. Oh no, this was the real deal. And Tsukushi wasn't fighting it. Her spine was rigid, her shoulders tense, yes. But she Didn't pull away, as Rui brought her closer, deepened the kiss. . . Amon's grin intensified . Who'd've thought the boy had it in him? They didn't stop until both were breathless, and flushed. Tsukushi looked dazed. Rui. . .hungry; almost like a starving man, who's just had his last meal, and knows he'll never get another.

"I'm sorry, but. No." Tsukushi finally recollected herself enough to remember her lines. Fortunately, she was spared from further effort by the arrival of Tsukasa.

"What the hell are you trying to do, shithead?" He roared at Rui. Oh man, he wasn't exactly acing, either. One instant was all it took for the old rivalry between the two to flare up again. Almost, it looked like they would really come to blows. Amon glanced towards Akira, off on the side, who was nodding contentedly. Oh. Of course, he'd known it would be like this. Amon had to give the boy credit. He hadn't thought that Soujiro would be fooled by a false attempt to inspire his jealousy. It had to be real. They really would still be fighting over Tsukushi, just like this, if they hadn't finally accepted that she'd made her choice. And that was why the whole thing worked. That fool Nishikado was the only one who still doubted. He could almost feel Tsukushi being taken away from him. Either one could succeed if she ever came to her senses. Hah. Amon could've told the idiot boy the unlikelihood of that eventuality. But, he was enjoying the scene far too much.

"Oh fuck it." Tsukasa growled, "Now who's making her cry?" And indeed, Tsukushi was looking a bit watery about the eyes. Still, if hadn't already known better, Amon might have thought it totally out of character, the way Tsukasa reached out for Tsukushi, and gently enclosed her in his bear-like embrace, as if afraid that she might break. He glared defiantly at Rui, before leaning down to nuzzle Tsukushi's hair; a move she responded to by throwing her arms around Tsukasa's neck and looking up at him, with a melancholy lost look on her face. A look that had caused his heart to twist and ache so many times in the past. Instinct, and experience told him how to make that frown vanish. So of course, he kissed her. In the background, Rui pouted, while Soujiro struggled fruitlessly, unable to do anything but watch the tender exchange. Funny, that at this moment, Tsukasa was the sweetly gentle one, while Rui had been all fiery passion.

"Hmph." Akira finally got tired of the whole scene and pushed away from the table he'd been leaning on. "Bravo. Bravo." He clapped sarcastically, "Isn't it a bit late for such butting of heads?" assuming his own role as mediator of the clash, as if he hadn't helped choreograph the whole thing. "You're ruining Shigeru's party. Stop it already. Go get a drink and cool off. Besides," he continued, almost offhandedly, "you two can't kiss for shit." Amon almost his grip on Soujiro, he was laughing so hard. Not at the statement, but rather, at the choking noises Soujiro was making, as Akira sauntered up to Tsukushi and pushed Tsukasa away. "Here, Let me show you how it's done."

"What is this," Shigeru asked Sakurako rather loudly, as they both looked on, "Some kind of bizarre macho kissing contest?"

"That's exactly what it is." Sakurako sniffed peevishly. "Didn't you know? She told me yesterday, Tsukushi's tired of all this waffling and not knowing what's right, or what to do to make things right. Silly girl. So I told her, You need to find out what makes you burn from your scalp to your toes. Who can make you feel like you're the center of the world? Who can turn you on with just one touch? You find who lights your fire, and you jump them. Simple."

"So. . .Why's Akira kissing her?" Shigeru sounded puzzled, "He's not interested."

"Oh, that." Sakurako laughed, "Hell, why not? I think he's just trying to show the rest of them up. Either that, or he just wants to make Soujiro mad. . . he certainly is taking his time, isn't he?" The exchange, was of course, just as staged as the rest of the show, but how was Soujiro to know that?

Soujiro had gone limp, and ceased his struggles as he eavesdropped on the girls conversation. Somehow, he got the impression that he was being set up, but he still wasn't sure how. Right now, all he wanted to do was punch Akira right in his goddamned perfect face, fuck him up so he could never kiss again. Shit shit shit and Damn! Look at them! After that shit with Rui, and the nonsense with Tsukasa, she was actually considering Akira. Bloody hell! Soujiro's mind raced. He couldn't let that happen. She'd said she loved him! Goddamnit, if she could kiss Akira without cringing, -- and holy fuck where did he think his hands were going!? Then she could bloody well stop freaking out at his touch. And if he couldn't make her toes curl, then damnit. . . maybe she really would be better off without him. Soujiro couldn't tear his eyes away; Akira had Tsukushi back against the bar now, and was still going strong. She did look like she was enjoying it. But finally, she pushed him away, red-faced and gasping for breath.

"And that is how it's done." Akira sketched mock bows at Tsukasa and Rui, "Take it from a pro."

"But I still wouldn't want to date you." Tsukushi gasped quietly.

"Hey!" He cried in mock-affront, "Wasn't I so much better than those jokers!? And I am in between women right now. . ."

"Hold It!" Soujiro found that Amon had finally released him. Quickly he stepped away, rubbing his sore arms, "Akira, you can't be serious!"

"Why can't I be?" Akira assumed an air of wounded innocence. "Makino is growing up. She needs someone with experience to guide her. Someone stable and trustworthy. Someone like me." He grinned disarmingly.

"But, but." Soujiro blurted, "You don't love her!"

"So?" Akira raised an eyebrow, "What's that got to do with it? Do you? I need a girlfriend and she needs a man. You think you can do better?"

"Yes!" almost a cry of desperation. Emotions that Soujiro hated anyone seeing.

"Yes to which?" Akira refused to relent, while Rui and Tsukasa glowered in the background, "Yes you love her, or Yes you can do better?"

"Ahh. . ." Soujiro glared, hating to have to admit what everyone already knew.

"Come on." Amon taunted from behind. "It's not a tough question. Those two think they love her better than you. That one thinks he can do a better job as boyfriend. Hell, I could too. So which is it; can you do better than Mimasaka, or is love all you got going for you?" he made it sound like a sneer.

"Both." Soujiro finally stood his ground, before he managed to get himself anymore backed into a corner than he already was.

"Then Prove it." Rui was the one to speak this time. Glaring a challenge at Soujiro. "Prove that you can do better. Prove that you can take care of her, prove that you can love her better than Tsukasa or I."

"Or else." Tsukasa cut in. "Or else, I swear, I'll kill you, myself."

"He'll have help from me." Rui agreed.

"Actually, all of us." Sakurako added her two cents.

"You do know how dumb you all look, right?" Amon was getting tired of the drama, "I mean look at yourself! Have you noticed that we're all wearing loincloths! And palm fronds everywhere. Coconut bras! Hula skirts. And you're talking about love and caring and shit. I liked the kissing better. Goes with the décor. Show some fucking passion, you damned pansy and kiss your girlfriend. If you love her, fucking show it. Look at her! She's waiting for you." It was true, now that the 'kissing contest' was over, Tsukushi was looking forlornly down at the floor, wiggling her toes, and wondering if any of this had been a good idea. After all, Soujiro was just standing there. Maybe she should just give up and go home? "You stupid fuck." Amon continued, "Or are you squeamish that she's been swapping spit with your buddies? 'Cause if you are, I can guarantee you right now, there are others who aren't. You'd better hurry while she's still willing to give you a chance."

"I'm not stooping to your level." Soujiro turned back, and glared at Amon. "Neither Tsukushi nor I are performing monkeys for your entertainment." And now, his voice was colder than Amon had thought possible from such a feckless fool. "Do you think that a public spectacle is going to make us any more or less committed? I'm not doing any of this for you." He was dangerously angry now, as he continued, "You can think what you want of me, and you can say what you want. But I don't care. All that matters to me, is what Tsukushi thinks. She's the only one here who ever understood. The only one that could reach me. If she's given up on me, then that's her right," he bowed his head glumly, "She of all, has always understood when to call it a total loss. But that's for her to decide. And not you." His eyes shot back up, transfixing the room with his fury, all the frustration and pent up unhappiness finding an outlet in this backlash, "None of you are fit to judge me. You can't know me when you never even understood yourselves." He sighed, and suddenly, Tsukushi could see his the tension etching his body drain out, "I'm tired of this all. Tsukushi, I'm sorry. You know I am. Tell me what it's gong to take; can we work through this, can you forgive me enough to forget, or should we just be friends? Can you ever stand my touch again? I'm not going to come over there and try to force you to feel what I do. But, if you want to try, well, you know where you can find me." He smiled grimly, and without another word, turned and left the room, intent on finding his clothes and fleeing the suddenly stifling atmosphere.

"Oh shit." Sakurako muttered disgustedly.

"Well that tears it." Shigeru agreed. "Akira, your plan sucks."

But what about Tsukushi? She stood still, staring at her feet. Tears dripping from her eyes, feeling guilty for what she'd helped to put Soujiro through. She shouldn't have agreed to Akira's plan. Shouldn't have even considered Amon's. But there it was, and it was her fault Soujiro was hurting again. Much as she hadn't wanted to be kissed by the other boys, she couldn't deny that she'd enjoyed it, and that made her feel even worse. And so she stood and cried into her hands. Alone in the room, despite being surrounded by her friends. Both Rui and Tsukasa hovered, nearby, wanting to comfort her, but not sure how appropriate that would be.

Finally, it was Amon who snorted in disgust, and shook Tsukushi by the shoulders. "Stupid kids, the lot of you. This is the point where you need to go after him. You know how you're feeling now? Think that's how he felt after fucking the bimbo? Or something close to? Think he doesn't regret as much as you do? Probably more so. You've punished both of yourselves quite enough, don't you think? So get your dumbass out there and put all this crap behind you. Or don't. Stay here with tweedles dum, dee, and duh. But you have to live with the consequences. Your choice." With that, he pushed her, none too gently, toward the door. Not trusting her to make the right choice on her own.

Numbly, Tsukushi went. Picking up speed as she put the party behind her. Not even pausing for her own street clothes before chasing Soujiro out into the cool spring night.

"'Jiro, Wait!" She called after his slowly retreating figure. Glumly, Soujiro turned, somehow not really having expected her to follow this time. His brain was still having trouble processing the fact that she had, when it finally noticed that she was still dressed in no more than a lei, coconut bra, and grass skirt. Not even wearing shoes. Stupid girl never did have any common sense. His pause gave Tsukushi just enough time to catch up, to slam breathlessly into him. "Damnit, you didn't wait for me!" She accused, pouting into his bewildered face. Pouting, and angry, because she was no good at apologies. "I, I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have listened to them. Oh fuck, it's all my fault. I guess. . I just needed to know. . . what it was like. Can you forgive me?"

"Tsukushi What the fuck are you blithering about? What are you doing here?" questioning to conceal his surprise and near overwhelming relief that she hadn't turned from him.

"I couldn't let you go." Tsukushi babbled on, "I think we can make it work. I'll try harder. But only if you do too."

"Wha?" Soujiro finally processed the fact that Tsukushi still had her arms locked around him, as if afraid that he was going to run off again. Processed that, and the fact that the damned coconut bra pressed against his chest was damned painful. "I'm not going anywhere. You're not the one I'm mad at."

"But you should be."

"So? Tell you what. I'll be mad at you, if you don't stop crushing my ribs."

"Oh! Sorry." Tsukushi blushed in embarrassment, and made as if to let go completely, only to be stopped by one of Soujiro's arms sliding loosely around her waist. And this time, instead of tensing, Tsukushi found herself, for the first time, not thinking of Yuki. Soujiro would never get as furious at his friends for her. Would never have been driven to fight with his friends for her. Or been comfortable to just stand here in the street, hugging, without it leading straight to the bedroom. And so, maybe Tsukushi could forgive him, could learn to focus on what made her special, instead of how she might merely fill in a place where any other could have fit. As that dawned on her, as she finally began to understand how she could go on like this, she smiled up at Soujiro. His profile in the moonlight, while he regarded warily her with dark eyes, as if afraid that she'd slip way like some shy woodland creature, was beautiful. And suddenly, she realized something else; that Akira's theory was wrong, that the way to find a partner, was not to search for someone who could make your heart race, who could make your veins burn with an inner fire, but rather, to seek someone whom you wanted to make feel that way. As right now, she was seized by the impulse to show Soujiro how much she really cared. No longer willing to be bound by the irrational fear that he'd then see her as just like all the other girls in his life.

Cautiously, Tsukushi reached up one hand up to caress Soujiro's cheek, run through his hair, turn his face down to hers, all so she could stretch up on tiptoes and bring her lips to his. Not about who wanted to kiss her, or how skilled they were, but whom she wanted to kiss, whom she'd chosen. And she'd chosen Soujiro. She wanted him to feel the same, and if didn't, then they really would be better off alone.

Hah. As if the outcome of her action was ever in doubt. Slowly at first, as if he couldn't believe Tsukushi was actually taking the initiative now, then more confidently, as she showed him how much she had learned from him, back before their relationship had gone sour, he kissed her back. Ignoring the street, and the occasional passing car, he pulled her closer, not even seeming to notice the unyielding pressure of that damned coconut bra against his ribcage. It wasn't until one wandering hand, slipping up along the back of her thigh, beneath the grass skirt, failed to be slapped away, as had always been Tsukushi's wont, that Soujiro recollected himself.

"Tsukushi." He murmured, pulling away slightly, "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you." She grit out, thankful that her blush wasn't visible in the moonlight.

"Why?" He hesitated, torn by paranoia, "Because of what Akira said? You seeing how I compare to the rest?"

"No!" Tsukushi drew back as if slapped, stung by the accusation. "Because you're my boyfriend and I love you! Isn't that enough? And to apologize for the shit we put you through. But Not to compare! How could I? You're the one I love; there can be no comparison. . ."

"Shit," Soujiro winced, ashamed of his on paranoia. "I'm sorry. Really. Oh damn it." He quickly changed the subject. " . .So what happens now?"

"Well," Tsukushi leapt on the opportunity, "Can we go inside somewhere? It's cold out here. And this damned bra chafes!"

"Not going back to the party." No way did he want to deal with his friends right now. Tomorrow would be another day. With calmer tempers, all would undoubtedly be forgiven and forgotten. After all, the F4 were no strangers to bickering and jealous infighting.

"No." Tsukushi nodded, "How about home?"

"Oh." Soujiro frowned, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice. He'd somehow been hoping for some more time with Tsukushi before dropping her off at that closet she called home. "I guess you do need to do your homework, tonight, don't you?"

"Umm. . ." Tsukushi hesitated, and took a deep breathe before continuing, "Actually, I meant, I wanted to go home with you. If that's all right?" She'd slept over before, of course, sometimes in the same bed as him, but nothing more than cuddling, or low grade fooling around ever went on. She'd always been so adamant about that. This time, however, the pause, the strain in her voice, startled Soujiro. He did a double-take, staring down at the top of Tsukushi's head, trying to read the workings of her mind. Nah. He decided he'd been reading too much of his desires in her words, damned hormones. . . but then, he thought of their kiss, and how she hadn't slapped away his errant caress, and he wasn't sure anymore.

"Yeah," he said slowly, "Whatever you want to do, is fine by me." Even if it just meant that all they'd do is cuddle. After so long without being able to hold her at night, even that would be enough. Even just the way she comfortably slipped her hand in his, during the cab ride, or relaxed against his shoulder, even that, so much of an improvement from the tension and strain she'd suffered from before, even that was enough for him tonight.

TBC

---Hey kids, guess what? Yeah, you got it, next chapter's the last one! About fucking time, no? hell, maybe I'll even write it sometime in the next millenium. So yeah, as you can see, not everyone's life is going to come out perfect, not all issues can be resolved. 'cause that's life. The only resolution is death, and I'm sure as hell not following these guys to their graves. . . ah well, until next chapter, --cm---


	37. a moment worth waiting for

---In lieu of all that I would otherwise say here in my usual interminable babble, I'll be brief instead. To all my reviewers, especially those who have stuck with this series from the beginning, (if there are actually any of those) a huge thank you! Your support has been the only thing that allowed me to finish this monstrosity. So here it is, perhaps not as great a fic as it could have been if it'd kept my attention longer, but done at least, at last ----

When we last saw the majority of our protagonists, they were milling around in some confusion. Hard to recover the momentum of the party after such an awkward moment as they had all helped engineer. The only one unaffected by the brief flare-up was Sakurako's fiancé, who, being bland and clueless, was too busy being drunk and awed at being invited to another of the F4's parties to comprehend the tensions that bound them all together.

But who really gave a shit about Sakurako's fiancé anyway? No one, not even Sakurako herself, though at least, since the sex was okay, she'd given up on the anger at being forced to marry the twit. And besides, if she ended up miserable and unhappy, then well, there were always boys around like Akira, who found the idea of screwing a married woman to be highly erotic. So then, that was that.

Sakurako chugged back another drink, and looked around the room. To her mind, the current tableau summed up their personal dramas pretty well. Over by the bar, Tsukasa was ranting and gesticulating furiously at Amon, who, when he wasn't rolling his eyes, was grinning in sardonic amusement. For, once more, Tsukasa was bitching him out for interfering with Tsukushi's life. Like his own 'help' had been terribly productive. Sakurako snorted, dumbass boys and their schemes. If there's one thing she'd learnt over the course of her acquaintance with the F4, it's that plans rarely worked as you expected them to. Indeed, usually they failed miserably. Though, who knew as yet, if this little play had flopped completely. But really, who cared it if had? It wasn't their place to go attempting to manipulate their friends' lives. Even if it was for their own good. Even if they were too damned incompetent to fix their problems without interference. If that's the way it had to be, then that's the way it would be. And that's life. Just like the Shigeru, Amon, Tsukasa mess. Whatever was up with that, and god only knew-- messing with it would just cause more problems than it was worth. Sure, Shigeru wasn't happy; trapped in a political match, doomed to be forever near her crush. But didn't she know? Love dies. Especially crushes. She could nurse it petulantly all she wanted, but it would die. She'd get over Tsukasa. Sakurako had. Sure, it'd taken a long time, but she had. So she knew, it was possible. And ok, sure, the affair with Amon just complicated matters a little-- or, fine, a lot. But at least, though Amon didn't return Shigeru's affections either, at least he was a far better friend to her, than Sakurako would have ever thought possible for one so like Tsukasa. And that was good.

Maybe, Sakurako thought, whimsically, and with a touch of envy, the boys would even get over their anti-Shigeru hangups and settle down into a respectable threesome. Who knew? Though, it would certainly tax the energies of anyone less hyper to deal with Both of those moody, high strung, violently passionate men. 'Course, Sakurako shrugged, Shigeru got to deal with all that now, just without the passion bit. So it wouldn't be that much of a step if the boys would just get over themselves.

But for now, Shigeru sat over in the losers corner, commiserating with Rui. For now, the lonely ones; friends with many, lovers to none. Attractive, Giving, but unloved. They'd just have to look harder or deal with their solitude. But at least Shigeru was smiling, and Rui was out of his shell. Plenty of life ahead for them both. Plenty of time to change their luck around.

Akira, bouncing around the room, fetching drinks, taunting Amon, laughing at Tsukasa, joking with Shigeru and Rui, still feckless and happy-go-lucky. Pretending to live it up, while he tried his best to look after everyone; the eternal mommy. Hell, someone had to do it, even if he was not always qualified to do the right thing. At least he tried hard. He just wasn't good at settling down. The little social butterfly; couldn't stay tied down , because he had too much he wanted to share with the world. And who knew just how he would cope when he had to assume his corporate responsibilities? Would he wither and die, or would he channel his energy into some sort of multitasking genius? Again, one could only wait and see.

It would be an interesting wait, Sakurako was sure. An interesting life ahead for them all. But now? Now was the time to drink.

And so they did.

--------

Yeah yeah, life goes on, and shit. But what about the sex?

Well, Sakurako's getting plenty, and so's Tsukasa (and Amon by extension), though every time, Tsukasa swears it's a lapse in judgement that'll never happen again, and that if he never sees Amon ever, he'll be happy. And you know what shit that is. And yeah. Akira gets around plenty. You know that.

Oh, you meant, do Soujiro and Tsukushi ever get it on?

Pfft. . . Inquiring minds want to know. Voyeurs!

Fine, fine, of course they do, this very night in fact. I mean, duh.

You want to read about it? Well of course you do.

It can't hurt to peek a little. So, pretend you're a fly on the wall, or a peeping Akira looking through a pinhole or an open window. . .

So right, there they were. Soujiro's room. An old familiar place, full of memory. Sometimes a room of loneliness, and sometimes of despair. But sometimes, cozy and comforting; a warm place to be held close beneath the blankets, with dim lights, and the sound of lovers' breathing.

So which is it tonight? I think, perhaps, we can dispense with the overarching angst. Just for a little while. After all, our two star-crossed lovebirds are trying to make their relationship work; each attempting new compromises, whatever it takes to avoid losing something precious. But it's difficult, yes? Making up after a long period of détente, there's bound to be awkwardness, especially with one so conservative as Makino Tsukushi.

The cab ride here had been uneventful, if a wee but chilly, for the severely underdressed Tsukushi, and punctuated by many a curious glance from the driver; which ceased only after Soujiro's flat cold glare, glimpsed only briefly in the rear view mirror, caused the poor man to break out in a cold sweat. Upon entering the house, the two had tiptoed quietly down the long hallways, deciding they'd rather not waken anyone who might question Tsukushi's unusual costuming. The destination, arrived at, at last; Soujiro's room. The conversation, muted, halting, a little tense. Attempts to recover lost ground, reopen closed lines of communication. Tsukushi, twitchy as Usual. Soujiro, veering between charming silliness, to sweet, to melancholy, in the blink of an eye, remembering, relearning, that it was not necessary to hide behind masks around Tsukushi. Sitting, comfortably, her head on his shoulder, until Tsukushi yawned and declared it was time for bed.

"And, finally, to get out of these stupid clothes!" Her exclamation of delight, as though she hadn't forgotten entirely what she was wearing while she and Soujiro had been chatting. (He, of course Had been oh so Very well aware of the mostly bare flesh pressed up against him. But he was a boy, so what can you expect from him?)

Reluctantly, Soujiro stood up, intending to go find some pajamas for Tsukushi to go change into. By now, he'd been well trained to humor her modesty, so he'd have to say that it came as a considerable surprise when instead of taking the pajamas from him, Tsukushi instead stood up, and, taking a deep bracing breath, threw her arms around his neck.

"Wha. . .?" Soujiro blinked in confusion.

"Sorry." Tsukushi blushed, "I. . .I just wanted to."

"Hell, Tsukushi." Soujiro grinned, recovering from his surprise, "You can hug me anytime you want to." Hell, of course she could, it was ever so much better than the cold stiffness they'd been enduring so much of.

"Mmm. . ." She murmured musingly, almost to herself, "It's hard. . . getting used to this again. . . but practice makes everything easier, right?"

"Right." Soujiro nodded, unsure of where this all was going.

"Right then." Tsukushi echoed more firmly, and pressed her lips to his. Still, in the back of her mind, she could here nagging reminders of his infidelity, but she ruthlessly tuned them out. Already, the more she tried, the fainter they sounded. Practice made perfect, and the more she practiced, she was sure, the closer she'd come to getting over it entirely. And that, she was sure, was a worthy goal. As for Soujiro himself, well, he wasn't going to say no to a good thing, now was he? Of course not. He responded carefully, sweetly, allowing Tsukushi to lead, only breaking it off after a long while to gasp, "Ok, that thing has really got to go."

Tsukushi looked down at the hard shells. Damn, she was so going to kill Shigeru later. She also wished she'd had the sense to take her clothes with her when she'd fled the party, or failing that, to at least have changed into something more comfortable when she'd first arrived at Soujiro's, 'cause those damned coconuts were getting in the way, again. She took another deep breath, thought for a few seconds about what she was going to do, hearing the echoes of Amon's advice in her ears, and finally, looked back up at Soujiro.

"Ok." Was all she said, while the heat spread across her cheeks. While Soujiro blinked down at her, Tsukushi stepped away slightly, and fumblingly reached for the ties around her back.

Whoa, was the first thought that penetrated Soujiro's brain. Yeah, he was a bit slow on the uptake, but after all, this was Tsukushi here. You know, the prude? Yeah.

"Let me." No, he was definitely not going to let a good thing pass him by. Shyly, Tsukushi turned around to allow him access to the excessively tight knots. She was blushing all over, a thought that embarrassed her even more, as it wasn't even like this was the first time Soujiro had seen her breasts, or touched them, or kissed them. . . But it was the first time that she'd taken the initiative, instead of letting him show her the way, and it was the first time she'd let him get this far since the Yuki incident. Another milestone met, and passed.

The offending item finally removed, was flung aside. Tsukushi heaved a sigh of relief, and wincingly looked down at the red marks outlining her breasts. "Ouchy. Damnit. Shigeru lied."

"Hmm?" Soujiro wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to his chest, so that he could rest his chin on her shoulder and peer down at her.

"She said they wouldn't hurt, wouldn't pinch my skin." Tsukushi griped, to cover her embarrassment.

"Ow.. " Soujiro commiserated, "That does look painful." But, being Soujiro, he damn sure well knew a way to take her mind off of it. Carefully, he brushed the hair back from her neck, and nuzzled her sensitive skin, working his way up until his breath tickled her ear, and he could feel her shiver against him. God how he had missed this! Her naïve responsiveness, her unschooled hesitations-- all telling him that he was the only one who'd ever touched her like this, that he was the one she'd chosen, the only one she wanted. No matter how unworthy he might be. So much of a drug, so much more addictive than a night in the arms of the most skilled, most beautiful temptress in existence. It was knowing that someone wanted him for more than his name, his money, his prowess. Wanted him despite knowing the worst of his failings. It made his blood burn. He wanted. . . . Well, he was a horny guy; you can guess what he wanted. If you think Tsukushi didn't know the same, then you're utterly delusional, but even still, she wasn't sure just how far she was willing to go tonight. All she knew, was that she was trying to keep an open mind. Though, seriously, it was hard to think when Soujiro was turning her around, kissing her again, running his hands in long caresses down her spine and up along her ribs, until every nerve tingled. Hard to think, when he lifted her impulsively, and dipped her back onto the bed, legs entangled, busy lips and tongues. Half lying on top of her, supporting his weight on one arm, using the other to trace possessive patterns along her hip and waist. Trying not to push too much, too fast, but reveling in the moment, in the way her lips parted for him, the way her fingers flexed and curled on his back, the rosy glow in her cheeks, the racing of her heart, the heavy breathing. And Tsukushi? Yup, still having trouble thinking, remembering why it was she'd ever been pissed at him, why it was that she'd denied herself this feeling. Vaguely, fuzzily, she wondered if she'd regret anything in the morning. She hoped not. After all, it was true, at this very moment, she loved him, and he her, so what should there be to regret? If she could find the words right now, she might ask Soujiro if what they were doing was right, but language escaped her. And besides, who needed words, when there was action and sensation?

And speaking of sensation, that damned grass skirt itched like hell, especially where Soujiro's legs tangled with Tsukushi's own. Damn it, now that she'd noticed, not even Soujiro's kisses could distract her. She desperately needed to scratch. To hell with it. Tsukushi's hand ceased its intricate tracings on Soujiro's back and stealthily slipped down to scratch her thigh. Ahhh. So much better! Except that, Soujiro had stopped with the kissing, and was leaning back regarding her questioningly, laughter in his eyes. And now she just felt awkward.

"Can't keep your mind on one thing at a time?" he teased breathlessly.

"It itches!" she blushed defensively. How embarrassing.

"Scratching while I'm trying to make out with you is simply not sexy, little working girl." Teasing to watch that scarlet blush deepen into crimson mortification. Until he relented, "But you're my working virgin, and I love you anyway." And he was lying about the unsexy bit anyway. How could he not find the woman he loved to be sexy when she was lying beneath him?

"Maybe. . . I should take the skirt off?" Tsukushi stammered hesitantly. She'd never let him see her that naked before. And there was the added embarrassment of the last minute costume change that Sakurako had insisted on. Her nervousness was not in anyway assuaged by the way Soujiro's eyes seemed to light up at the thought, or by the way he leaned down to growl in her ear,

"I certainly wouldn't object to that." Oh no, not at all. And he could see her tremble in fear or in anticipation, as she lifted her hips and wriggled hesitantly out of the skirt. Soujiro's eyes widened, asked the question a beat before his lips could utter the words, "A thong? You own a thong?"

"Sakurako." Tsukushi was beet red now. Damn her friends Damn them to hell, "She wanted us all to match at the party, Exactly." She looked like she was afraid it had been a terrible idea, that she must look an idiot.

"Tsukushi. . ." Soujiro drew a long shuddering breath as he looked down at then early naked girl beneath him, "You never cease to amaze me. . ." And man, did she look eminently fuckable. He wanted to touch, to kiss, to caress every centimeter. . . And fuck, if she didn't let him, he was going to have to spend more than a little quality time, just him and his hands relieving a severe overload of sexual frustration. Oh damn.

"Is it ok?" She still wasn't sure, still so embarrassed to be caught in something so different from her usual comfortable conservative underwear,

"Idiot. . . " Soujiro reached out and grasped one of Tsukushi's wrists. Seized by sudden temptation, he drew her hand in to him, brought it under his shirt, led it to caress his chest, his flat stomach, to flirt with the top of his jeans, near where a prominent bulge suggested just how ok it all might be. Until finally, he felt her relax enough to continue the caresses without his guidance. Featherlight teasing fingertips dancing unsurely across his burning flesh, while he mirrored Tsukushi's actions on her body, watching her arousal grow, until he judged it to be the proper time to divest himself of his own shirt. And then, a while later, his pants. And even later, her underwear. Later, leading her fingers lower. Later, the both of them naked, sweaty, hands and limbs entwined, slow explorations, gentle pleasure. Later, a pause, a question silently asked, silently answered, a pause to fumble in the nightstand drawer, the lessons continued, and then nothing but the sound of heavy breathing, of flesh on flesh, the throaty sounds of pleasure, the look of awe on Tsukushi's face, the heavy lidded ecstasy, the ultimate surrender for them both.

Finally, cooling sweat, naked bodies nesting together in sleep, smiling serenity. Exhausted fulfillment. Tomorrow, a new day. A new chapter in their lives. A fresh beginning. A new understanding. If there had been mistakes in the past, none were made this night. Though their paths might diverge someday, for now at least, they'd run together. For what else is love for, but to bring two people together?

And as for what the future would hold, who knew? The only certainty, that with this ensemble cast, it would be one big adventure, or many.

But that is not my place to tell.

For this adventure, at least, has run its course, and the protagonists lie exhausted from the marathon they've endured. Let's leave them now, and find our own adventures to endure, our own loves to torture us, elate us, leave us wounded and sore, sated, and content. Let us leave them, and find our own lives to Live.

END

"Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over."

---Questions, comments, flames, etc. email curdled.milk (at) g mail. com (minus the spaces) --cm--


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